Bad Moon Rising
by outlook96
Summary: A sequel to "Bloodlust". As Anna Miller continues to cope with her new transition, as well as her blossoming romance with Stiles, her and the pack find themselves on a Deadpool, a hit list for supernatural creatures. A mysterious new enemy has hired assassins to make them a prime target for death. The Deadpool is out, the hit list is up, and they're all on it.
1. Chapter 1

I slowly lifted my heavy eyelids, feeling the effects of extreme fatigue. My vision was slightly blurry, I could only make out the few dark shadows that passed by. I rubbed my eyes, groaning. I tried to move my head from my reclined position, but it was stiff and sore, like I had slept for days. I had an excruciating migraine, one that wouldn't fade. "Stiles…?" I called out, hoping he would hear me. It only came out as a harsh whisper though.

My voice was croaked and raspy.

An overwhelming amount of feelings rushed over me. I was hungry, extremely hungry. I was so parched that the next human I saw might not live through the rest of their day. I couldn't believe I was saying that, but it was true. I felt tremendously weak, like I couldn't move a muscle. How long had I been out?

I rubbed my eyes once more, trying to focus my vision. My head was spinning, like I had a massive hangover.

People were talking, but it was hushed and I couldn't make out what it was saying.

I shut my eyes, pinched the bridge of my nose, and took a deep, relaxed breath. I reopened my eyes, and the ugly brown ceiling above me came into view. There were cracks in it, which contained overgrown weeds that wedged in the middle of it. There was a rusty old vent in the corner of my vision and an old smoke detector that would, without a doubt, never work.

Where was I?

I sluggishly propped myself up on my elbows and took in my surroundings. It looked like an old, abandoned apartment. The windows were barred up, and it appeared to be vacant for quite a while. The revolting stench of a rotting cat carcass sat in the corner of the room, making me gag.

An unexpected revelation occurred.

I had been abducted.

My body twitched into action, and I jolted up.

To my surprise, I was held back. My legs were enveloped in rusty, aged, boisterous, chains. I tugged at them. Usually with my strength, I could pull them right off, but these wouldn't budge. I continued to tug and pull, until eventually, my skin started to go raw.

I winced at the pain.

A buzzing noise startled me, and my head jerked to the right. There, on the old wooden floor, was my phone. It was too far for me to reach though. I could see who was calling, it was Stiles.

When the buzzing stopped, the main screen popped up saying: **34 missed calls.** And that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was when it showed me the time and the date of the calls. The first one was three days ago.

I had been gone for three days.

Everything seemed like a blur, and I could hardly remember it. I remember being with Malia and Stiles, and then just Stiles, and then I went for my usual walk at dusk. Then I got jumped and kidnapped. The last thing I recall was a prick in my forearm. Someone had attacked me with a sleep sedative, for whatever unknown reason.

I was about to call for help, but then I forced myself to retreat from my decision when I heard the sound of four feet trudging up the stairs.

I had two choices here. I could either fake being unconscious still, or I could continue being conscious and see what they would have to say. I decided to go with option one and I collapsed on the floor again. I shut my eyes, and waited for them to come back

The door clicked open, and two men walked in.

"What are you going to tell her when she wakes up?" One of the men said, slurping aggressively on something. His resonance of his voice made him sound young. It was husky and hoarse.

"The truth" I heard a chair squeak on the old wooden floor, and winced. This man's voice was much older and monotonous.

"And if she doesn't cooperate?"

"Then this will happen again, and I can guarantee her no one will find us."

Husky-voice cleared his throat. "You sure about that? Her cousin's a werewolf."

The man scoffed.

"Leave it to you to turn the one girl that is actually friends with werewolves." Husky-voice chuckled.

How did they know all this?

"Yeah well you were the one who killed her, so who's really at fault for that?"

"All I'm saying is, we better be careful. One bite and they'll kill us."

There was a pause, and then the older man said "Whatever. Her life will be a living hell as long as we're around."

"That's a little drastic, don't ya think?"

There was a silence, and I assumed the older man nodded or shook his head or something.

Husky-voice spoke again. "This chick literally run's with werewolves. She's in a freaking pack of werewolves… And were-coyotes, and banshee's and whatever the hell a 'Stiles' is."

These people had been stalking me, which made me feel extremely violated and uncomfortable.

My phone buzzed again and out of instinct, I almost went to go reach it, although I knew I couldn't.

The older man groaned. "They won't stop calling. If that phone buzzes one more time I'm going to smash the shit out of it and throw it down the stairs. Better yet, I'll rip whosever calling's throat out."

I shivered, breathing a shaky breath.

The chair screeched against the floor again, and someone stood up. "Is she awake?"

The other chair did the same. "I don't know."

A heard a few footsteps, and then I felt someone grab me by the neck, lifting me up. Of course, my eyes flashed open at that motion. I coughed for air. I was faced with a man, who looked around 20. He had dark brown hair with blue eyes. His chin was chiseled to perfection and his face was lined with little bits of stubble, like his skin was covered in grains of sand.

"You little bi—"

"Sebastian." The older, taller, man warned. This man had dark hair as well. He looked around Peter's age, and he had quite the patch of facial hair.

"Have you been listening in this whole time?" He slammed me against the stone wall behind. Considering he was blocking off any passage of air, I just made gagging noises. When he realized the motives he hadn't intended to make, he dropped me to the floor.

I gasped, clutching my throat with my hands.

"Answer me."

I took a few breaths, and just trembled. I was petrified, what could I say? "I- I-…"

"ANSWER ME." He spat. He lifted a fist into the air, and it came falling down straight towards my face. When I felt the impact, I screamed. Blood immediately started falling and my nose was broken, no doubt. I hurt so bad.

"Sebas-"

"What James?" He yelled, throwing another punch. This time, near my left cheekbone.

"Don't kill her before we even get to talk."

This so called Sebastian, looked me in the eyes and glared. His eyes were red, and his fangs bared.

I breathed another shaky breath, then stuttered the words. "Y-You're like me."

He gave me a sarcastic look, then grabbed a chair, pulling it to sit in front of my bloody body.

"Of course we're like you." James pulled up a chair as well. "That's why we took you."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked apprehensively.

"Because we have to."

"No." I shook my head and gulped, "No you don't."

There was a slurping noise, and I looked to Sebastian. He had a bag of blood, like at a hospital, in his hand. He was casually slurping on it like it was a milkshake from McDonalds. I eyed it hesitantly. I was so thirsty. Just the scent made me crazy. I felt delirious.

"Thirsty?" Sebastian asked, sensing my hunger.

I didn't reply, just trembled.

"How about this: if you cooperate I'll give you the rest of this." He said, taunting me.

I shook my head, as much as I wanted it. I tried to push my human senses to take over. "I don't drink human blood."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, "Oh come on!"

"Live a little," James added.

"Why did you take me?" I asked, tears starting to well in my eyes..

"Because we need to grow. We need to expand our species. We're going extinct." James leaned forward, hands together.

"A-Are you saying I should turn people?"

Sebastian nodded, "Hey! She does have a brain after all."

I glared at him, then turned back to James who pissed me off slightly less. "We need help. Turn people and we won't hurt you. Don't cooperate? Then this will happen again."

"Are you kidding me?" I sat up, trying to blink the tears away. "This ruined my life. You turned me and then left me for dead. I almost killed someone."

Sebastian huffed.

"This isn't funny!" I tried to stand on my legs, getting as close as possible to him while the chains held me back.

"Sweetheart, we aren't laughing."

I glared at him. "I would never wish this… this curse… on anyone. You're disgusting." I spat, literally.

Sebastian stood up, pushing his chair over. He grabbed me by the neck, once again, and his fist made contact with my chin with a deafening, crack. Numbing pain shot through me and black dots spotted my vision. I stumbled back with the taste of blood in my mouth.

James didn't stop him this time, probably because he realized I wasn't cooperating.

I was surprised when the numbing pain continued. He threw punches and punches, and my whole body swelled up. I continued to scream, and I eventually ended up transforming do to the amount of emotions I was experiencing.

"You better stop hanging out with werewolves too. Especially Peter Hale." Sebastian ordered, holding his bloody fist high.

He knew Peter Hale? "What do you have against Peter Hale?"

"We want him dead."

"Why?" I asked, hesitantly shielding my face from the next blow.

"Most of us are dead because of him."

I just averted my eyes from them, not knowing what to say. That's probably why Peter knew so much about vampires, because of these guys.

"Good." I whispered.

Another blow came crushing down, and I screamed. I didn't even regret it. I wanted these guys as pissed off as possible, even if it meant torturing me.

It did hurt quite a bit though… So far I counted a broken rib and a broken nose, and a very torn up cheek bone, paired with a black eye.

"Join us. Or this happens again."

I shook my head cautiously, scrambling to the corner of the apartment. Sebastian turned, hissing. His eyes were a deeper red, more maroon. He was just about to crush me again, when a buzzing noise interrupted us.

I moved my hands away from my face and looked to my phone. Stiles.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Sebastian said, lowering his hand. He trudged over to the phone, picked it up, lifted in the air so he could smash it, but then paused. "Maybe this will be fun. This 'Stiles' kid might get worried and come looking if he hears from you."

"No." I whispered under my breath. James didn't say anything, just looked at his ally.

Sebastian pressed the green button, and moved the phone to his ear, squeezing it between his left ear and shoulder.

"Oh thank God… Anna." I heard Stiles sigh in the phone. "Scott!" He yelled, "She answered! Anna. Where have you be—"

"Anna's not here right now. Can I take a message?"

There was a long pause before Stiles spoke. "I swear to God if you touch her. Or else—"

"Or else what?" he grinned devilishly and walked to the kitchen, grabbing something from one of the drawers.

"I- I-" Stiles just stuttered into the phone.

"You want to talk to her?" He asked. He turned to me, and I finally saw what he had grabbed out of the drawers. A sharp, metallic, knife. It shook violently in his hands as he approached me.

I gulped.

"Let's talk to her." He smiled, putting the phone on speaker. He set it on the table. I know what he was trying to do. He was trying to break me, so I would do what they say. This species must have really been dying out or he wouldn't take such drastic measures.

He kneeled down to me, and I tried to nudge him away, but he pinned me into the corner of the wall. All I had to do was be quiet, not let Stiles know I was in harm. Otherwise Scott and him would come searching for me, which I know they already where, but now that Sebastian had answered the call their dad could track it.

I shut my swollen eyes. "Please… Don't…" I whispered.

I felt the sharp tip touch my collar bone. There was a few seconds of silence, then I felt the cut. I moaned internally from the excruciating pain, but kept it in, blinking back the tears that stung in the corners of my eyes.

"Anna?" Stiles breathed through the phone.

"Stiles…" I whimpered quietly back.

"Oh my God An—"

His voice was cut off by my ear-piercing scream. Sebastian had shoved the knife straight through me, right by my stomach. It was excruciating. The pain was almost unbearable…

"Oh God! Please! Don't hurt her. Please, I'm begging you." Stiles breathed.

Sebastian didn't say anything, just took the knife out of me and shoved it through me again, this time near my hip.

Another thundering shriek left my body, and tears ran down my face. It was so painful… I felt like I would faint from the loss of blood. I could feel myself getting weaker.

"STOP—" Stiles was interrupted by James pressing the red button, hanging up on him.

"Enough Sebastian, we should return the girl. If she doesn't cooperate, we'll find out, and in a few weeks we'll come again." James warned both me and Sebastian.

Sebastian ripped the knife out of me, and I let out a long moan, and then lifted me by my blood-soaked hair. He bashed me against the wall, which cracked my hip, and said, "A few weeks, we'll be back. If Peter Hale is still alive, and you're not turning people, then let's just say history will repeat itself."

I gulped down a mouthful of my own blood and spit. I felt very faint, but I tried to focus on him for as long as possible.

"Don't think we won't find you either," He slammed me again, then dropped me. "If you move to bloody Mexico we'll still find you. Trust me."

I coughed up some blood, spitting it out on the floor. These threats scared me, but I would never kill Peter, and I would never turn someone. I'd rather die, which seemed to be what was happening.

"What a waste of a turn." Sebastian muttered, walking away with the bloody knife.

I relaxed against the floor, feeling extreme fatigue try to take over. The loss of blood made me weak. I knew by tomorrow I would be all healed up and okay.

"Let's go." James called over to Sebastian, "We have to find the next one."

Next one? He turned others then just me? These guys were cruel.

James walked into the other room and came back a few seconds later with gloves and the bag that was previously wrapped around my head. He also came back with chains.

I thought this would be over and they'd just let me walk home…

But no. That was too easy, of course. James, wearing the gloves, picked up one of the chains and started to wrap them around my wrist. I understand why he was wearing gloves now. The chains were made with mountain ash. They instantly burned my skin when they put them on.

I cringed, moaning at the same time.

I tried to scramble away from him, but there wasn't much you could do when you were chained to the floor. Eventually, Sebastian had to pin me down and James put the bag over my head, which was also someone associated with mountain ash. I assumed the drawstrings were made with it. It burned to touch, so I just left it, along with my chained up hands.

I felt the chains from my bloody ankles be unlocked, and then a hand grab me the bag, and shove me forward. The hand moved down to my back, and gently pushed me in the direction to go. We took a left, went down some stairs, then a right, and then we headed out a door and into a car.

The car ride wasn't too long. I couldn't recall the number of turns, my head was spinning too much and I felt like I was going to pass out.

"She's bleeding all over my seats" Sebastian grumbled.

I rolled my eyes.

I felt the car come to a stop, and a door opened.

Sebastian, I assumed, pressed the knife into me slowly once more. "Don't make a single noise." He whispered, knowing I could grab one of the neighbors' attention. He pushed it into me, and I moaned once again, blinking back tears.

Leaving the knife in me, he tossed me onto the wet grass, and I heard the car drive away.

I took a large breath, then braced myself for the short but painful journey I was about to endure in. I propped myself up on my elbows and crawled until my hands met the stairs. I slowly crawled up the stairs, feeling the knife dig into me more, and collapsed by the front door.

I let unconsciousness takeover now. I was okay. I was safe, now. I listened in for any voices, but there was none. No one was home. I breathed a large sigh, and let my head hit the doormat. I shut my swollen eyes, and got ready to sleep. I was so tired… And so hungry.

I rested there, drifting in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours, until I heard a voice.

"Kira…" Scott whispered, "Oh my God… Look at this. There's a trail of blood." I heard a series of footsteps, Kira gasp, and then I heard the footsteps pick up.

"Kira! Call Stiles, Oh my God! Anna…" He put one arm underneath my legs, and the other around my shoulders. He lifted me into the warm house, and placed me on the sofa.

I just moaned, feeling the pain worsen.

"Anna…" He breathed in panic. "You have a knife inside of you. Oh my God."

He put both hands on the knife, take a large breath of air, then pulled it out.

I screamed a little, feeling it rip through my partially healed skin. I should've take it out earlier, I just felt too weak.

"Don't touch my wrists, or the bag." I warned Scott, "It's lined with mountain ash. Wait for Stiles."

Scott didn't reply. I just heard him get up, run to what sounded like his mom's closet, grab something, then sprint back.

"Anna…" Kira whispered, getting a good look at my wounds.

"I'm fine." I grumbled back.

A few minutes later, I heard the jeep pull up, Stiles fall out, and then door was open. "Where is she?" He panicked, "Where is she?" When he walked over to Scott, he must have seen me on the couch because he didn't say anything. There was just silence and heavy breathing.

"Anna?" That was Malia's voice. Was she with Stiles?

"The bag and chains are made of mountain ash so none of us can take it off." Scott explained.

He was tentative for a few seconds, but then kneeled beside me on the couch. I felt him try to untangle the knots in the drawstring. He was uncomfortably close though. And I was hungry.

He eventually got it loose, and slowly pulled the bag over my head.

It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when it did, I saw my friends all standing over me. Kira had her hands over her mouth, Scott and Stiles' jaw were agape and Malia looked confused.

Stiles was the first to say something. "Anna, your face…"

I tried to blink through my swollen eyelids, and it hurt.

Scott took action, and went into a first aid kit he grabbed. He pulled out some solution to clean my wounds, and a cloth.

I closed my eyes, reclining back on the couch. I let Scott clean my wounds, wincing every now and again at the pain. My rib and hip were healing, but my nose would have to be re-broken in order for it to look like it did before.

Scott knew that too.

"Just do it, Scott." I pleaded. "Do it quickly."

Scott shook his head. "I-I don't know if I can do that."

"Please," I begged, "I can't. The more time we waste the more it will heal."

Scott gnawed on his lip, but then placed his hands on my nose. He counted down from three, then a numbing sensation spread across my face. It hurt, but I could handle it. I still let out a large scream that startled the others.

Stiles grabbed a wet cloth and started cleaning my face, wiping the blood away.

He got too close, so I pushed him away. "Stiles.." I moved him with my hands, and he looked inconsolable. "I'm sorry." I breathed, "I'm just really hungry right now and I can't be near you." I explained.

His eyes lit up, which I hadn't expected, and he grabbed my hand. "Come with me, then."

"What?" I mumbled.

"Just come with me."

I gave him a confused look, but agreed to anyway. He helped me stand up. He put his arm underneath mine and we limped together out of the living room.

"I'll be right back. Just stay here, do something. Watch a movie." He said to the pack.

He helped me limp to my bedroom sluggishly, and I couldn't help but think about when he was like this a few days ago, weak in my arms. We had switched places.

Stiles sat me on the bed. I looked up at him and tilted my head.

He had an excited look. He sat beside me and held out his wrist. "Here"

"What?" I mumbled, rubbing my eye.

"I'm offering it to you." He shoved his wrist in my face, "Here"

I shook my head, although I did want to take his offer. I knew if I started I couldn't stop though.

"Just do it, Anna."

He didn't have to say it again. I moved closer him, placing my leg on top of his. I was practically sitting on him. I felt myself transition, and at that point I couldn't help myself. I cautiously bit into his wrist, closing my eyes.

The only sound was his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest. He stroked my hair soothingly.

As hungry as I was, I didn't feel like I was going to kill him or maim him or something. I actually felt like I was quite content, like I could stop anytime, as long as I thought about Stiles. I continued to drink, quenching my painful thirst, until the burning feeling went away.

"I was so worried about you," He whispered, pressing his lips to my hair.

I stopped drinking then, and I wiped my face with my sleeve. He handed me a wet cloth and I cleaned up whatever was left with it.

I looked up at him with swollen eyes, not saying anything.

He stared back at me for a few seconds, but then stood up, arms open. He helped me to the washroom, and that's when I got a good look at myself.

I stood in front of the mirror and say my face, white and blistering, eyelids nearly swollen shut. Hair fell from the front of my forehead in thin clusters. I looked like I had gone swimming in a pool of blood. I had a large gash, which was already healing, across my collar bone. There were three stab marks in my torso, and my face had a cut across the cheek bone.

It looked terrible, but I knew I would be fine. I would be alright. I washed my face with my hands, also washing out my mouth, and then clung back on to Stiles. We trudged to the living room, and he set me back on the sofa.

Everyone avoided the awkward topic about what had just happened. Everyone knew. Instead, they all bombarded me with other questions, as Scott aided to my wounds, cleaning out the ones that weren't already healed.

"Who took you?" Scott asked.

"Two men, named James and Sebastian." I replied, hissing as he cleaned out one of my stab marks. "They knew Peter, somehow. They want him dead."

"Is that why they took you?" Stiles said, placing his warm hand on top of mine.

I shook my head. "They were the ones that turned me. They said that our, um, species is dying out. They want me to turn others."

Stiles winced, making a funny face as he heard me talk. "So why did they do this to you?"

I shrugged, "A threat, maybe? They said if I didn't cooperate it would happen again. They're really serious about this."

"Hmm." Scott mumbled, cleaning up the last wound. He moved to Stiles now, wrapping his wrist up.

"They weren't very happy with me."

"How come?" Scott looked up at me.

"Because I'm in a pack of werewolves, banshees, kitsunes and were-coyotes."

"Hey what about Stiles." Stiles grumbled.

I ignored him, smiling slightly, then continued. "I guess Peter's partly at fault for that. They said he killed a lot of their kind before."

"Peter kills a lot of everyone's kind." Stiles mumbled, tightening his grip on my hand.

I nodded in agreement, smiling.

Once Scott was done, he put the kit away.

"Like mother like son," I smiled, referring to his nursing abilities.

He just grinned, placing the kit on the coffee table.

"Where is she, anyway?" I asked.

Scott looked at his feet, with a poignant expression.

"What?" I said, looking back at Stiles. Stiles just stared with wide eyes. "What?" I asked, looking back to Scott.

"She's taking Isaac to the airport."

"What? Why?"

"Isaac's leaving for a while."

I jolted up, instantly regretting it because of the pain. "No! He can't leave."

"He won't be gone for long." Scott exclaimed, "He'll be back. He just went to visit a cousin in Canada."

I sat back down, sighing. There was another one gone. What would we do with his room? It would be so depressing to see it vacant.

"So what did I miss while I was being tortured to death?" I asked the pack.

"Nothing really we were mostly looking for you." Stiles paused, "And Derek…"

"What?" I whispered harshly.

Stiles licked his small, pink lips, then looked me in the eyes.

"Derek's missing."


	2. Chapter 2

"While you were… away… I went to Derek's loft, you know, because he hasn't responded to my calls or texts in a few weeks like I was saying?"

I recalled Scott saying something to me about Derek ignoring him, but nothing worry-worthy.

"We went into his loft and found these weird bullets. They had a hunter's mark, which led me to believe where he is." Scott spoke in a serious tone, "The Calavera's."

"Who?"

"The Calaveras." He repeated. "A family of hunter's in Mexico."

I stood up from the couch, "What? Why? What would they want with Derek?"

"We don't know."

"So what, we're just gonna go to Mexico, guns, or should I says claws, blazing ready to kill?"

"Yup pretty much."

I scowled at Scott, "Great plan. God, Mexico. Why can't anything ever be easy for us?" I rolled my eyes to myself, and sat back down. "When are we leaving?"

"**We** are leaving tomorrow." Stiles emphasized, "You're staying here. Look at you, you need rest."

I shook my head. "No, I'm coming. I'll be perfect by tomorrow. I'm already healing." I lifted up my shirt to reveal three pink marks, where the blood had been spewing out of just previously. "See."

"You're not coming. You could get hurt." Stiles enforced.

I laughed, "Stiles, if anything, I could protect myself better then you, no offence. I think I'm alright."

"They're a family of hunters, Anna. If anything they'll kill you first. You're a target."

"But they don't know me. What if they don't even know vampires exist?"

The incredulous look on his face was actually kind of entertaining. "They're hunters, Anna. If Argent knows of you, they do. They probably have thousands of bestiaries with information about you."

"A what?" I cocked my head.

"A bestiary."

I felt Malia shift her weight behind me, and glanced at her quickly before looking back to Stiles so he could elaborate on the subject more.

"It's like a book of supernatural creatures, information on all of them— Oh my God. Dude, Scott, we need to get her the bestiary."

I felt myself light up inside. I wanted to learn more about my species, discover what had happened in the past, and what would happen in the future. How hard it would be to cope with things, what made me weak, what made me stronger. I was so intrigued.

"Argent has it."

"Where's Argent?" I asked eagerly.

"He's not answering my calls or texts."

"Oh God," Malia rolled her eyes, "Now we have to worry about him."

Scott shook his head, "I don't think so. I think this is more just a coping strategy, he's shutting everyone out right now." I knew he was referring to Allison's death. It killed me inside to think of her. Hurt more than the healing stab wounds.

"The seconds he text's you back, call me. I want that bestiary."

Scott nodded.

"So," Stiles clapped his hands together, "In conclusion; You're not coming."

"I'm going."

I watched him shoot a glare in my direction.

I turned to Scott, as if I was fighting with a sibling and looking to him like a father to decide the winning choice in the dilemma. "Scott, I can go. Right?"

"Umm…" He eyed Stiles, and then me, and darted his sight back and forth between us. "Sure…?"

I smiled in triumph.

"Scott!" Stiles' mouth was agape with an exasperated expression.

Scott just shrugged, "We could use her strength."

Stiles just shook his head in annoyance. "I guess Stiles' opinion doesn't matter anymore…" He whispered to himself, walking away from us.

I stuck my tongue out mockingly, "So what are we telling the rents?"

"We're camping." Stiles answered, turning back around.

I shrugged, "I guess that's not a lie…"

Stiles smiled, noticing I picked up his thinking. I then looked to my friends. "Yeah, just camping in Mexico."

"Exactly." Scott agreed. "Well we better go and get a good night's sleep if we're leaving tomorrow."

"Yeah" Kira and Malia said in unison.

They all said their goodbyes, Malia, and Kira giving me a 'get well soon' and headed out the door.

* * *

"So what's the plan? I asked as we got closer to the Calavera's place.

It took a good day to drive there. We used Stiles' jeep, trading off on driving so the others could sleep. We wanted to waste as little time as possible on finding Derek.

I adjusted my sitting, being squished between Kira, Malia, and Lydia.

"Well, I looked up the address Argent gave me a couple of days ago, and it's actually a club." Scott stated, turning around in his chair to talk to us.

"A club?" Kira questioned.

"Yup. So I'm thinking, you—" He pointed to me, "And you, and you," he pointed to Kira and Malia, "Along with me, stake out the club. You know, considering if anyone messes with us we could beat the crap out of them." I nodded in agreement, "Stiles and Lydia, considering they're human, well Lydia partially, will go in through the front entrance while we blend in. They have to get in contact with Araya, the leader of the hunter family. That's when you," He eyed Lydia and Stiles, "Offer them this."

Scott leaned over us, reaching into the trunk of Stiles' car. He pulled out a back pack, and unzipped it, revealing thousands and thousands of dollars.

"What?!" I ran a hand through my hair, "Holy crap! How in holy hell did you get all that?"

"It's the stash taken from Silverfinger."

"God, that's a lot of money." I eyed the beauty of the stacks of paper in front of me.

"50,000"

I sighed sullenly again. "So what happens after that?"

"We threaten them, every time they don't co-operate, w take money off the table."

"And you think that'll work?" Lydia questioned.

"We hope it will…" Scott licked his lips.

"And what after that?"

"Then we hope they hand over Derek."

My brows furrowed, giving Scott an incredulous look.

"That is a terrible plan." Lydia said for me.

"It's not so bad…" Kira winced.

"It's terrible," Malia concurred.

"Whatever. It's stupid, and quickly thought up, but it's the only plan we have." Scott concluded.

"As long as no one dies, I'm good with it." Stiles gripped the steering while, peering at me quickly through the rearview mirror.

I gave him a small smile, and he returned it back in the mirror.

We parked on the side of the road somewhere unknown. After we took our time getting out, we repeated the plan, going over all the details. Kira and Scott would head in early, and then Malia and I. After, Lydia and Stiles.

After Kira and Scott departed, W all rounded into a small circle, watching the twilight occur right in front of our eyes.

We waited half an hour to head in, that way it wouldn't seem too suspicious. After Stiles got everything set up (the money, the card needed to access the club, and some Spanish translating cards) Malia and I chose to leave.

We walked down the city streets, obseriving it.

I shoved my hands in my pocket and scanned the city, doing a small twirl every now and again. The city was nice, not where I would choose to live though. No forests, which was a problem. I watched as birds flew from building to building, gliding in the air.

A few men tried to empty an old red truck loading crates on to a flat. Another lady walked down the streets, carrying a basket of fruit in her hand.

"So are you feeling any better, since yesterday?" Malia bumped my arm with hers, trying to grab my attention.

"Just dandy," I replied, lifting my shirt up. There was nothing there anymore, just splotches of even paler skin.

"Looks better then yesterday," She scoffed, gazing at my healed wound.

"Yeah," I laughed.

I wasn't expecting her to say, 'I'm so glad you're okay', or 'I missed you', because Malia was still trying to come to terms with all this human behavior. She didn't understand the concept of being polite at times. I knew that was her way of checking in on me, and that made me happy.

We were silent for another few steps, until she brought up the most random subject.

"Do you think you can tan?"

"Hmm…" My lips tightened into a nice neat line "I don't know."

I was curious now. I glanced down on the silver band on my ring finger on my right hand. It was the ring Peter had given me, to protect me from the sunlight. I had no idea where he got it from, but I didn't care. Maybe that affected my ability to burn in the sun. I twisted it, playing with it on my finger. I had never taken it off since I was turned two months ago, and I didn't plan to. Turning into ashes wasn't worth finding out what would happen.

When we got near the building, I cocked my head at it. It didn't look like a club. It looked like just a plain building sector.

"Where do you think Scott and Kira went in?" She asked, turning to me.

I peered around the corner of the building, down a small alley. It looked like it could only fit one person at a time it was so tiny. I saw a door, just creaked open a few inches. "There," I pointed.

I grabbed Malia's hand, sneaking past the bouncer's at the front of the building, and towed her down the alley.

We walked through the door and were immediately met with a hallway. A silent hallway.

"Is Scott sure this is a club?" I gave Malia a look.

"He sounded pretty sure…" she replied.

I let go of her hand, and walked to the end of the dimly lit hallway. There were two doors, one beside us, and one at the end of the hallway. I felt drawn to the one at the end of the hallway. The door was large and painted black. It contained various etchings on it. I touched my hands to them, feeling the etchings with the tips of my fingers.

The walls shook, the lighting flickered, but there was no noise. This didn't seem like a club at all.

I placed my hand on the door knob, glancing at Malia quickly—who gave the impression of being giddy to see what was inside— and then opened the door.

The gust of warm wind hit me in an instant. The music echoed around me, and the dancing, sweaty bodies grinding against each other.

Strobe lights magnified the room, along with the tiny lights across the room that hung from the bar. There was a small balcony up above where the DJ spun discs, press on buttons and what not. The balcony line the whole room, and in the left corner of the room stood a man, tall, with a walkie talkie in his hand. I would make a note to myself to keep an eye on him.

The room was small for the huge crowd, but it wasn't so small that I felt claustrophobic.

The scents of sweat, cigarette smoke and booze instantly filled my nostrils. Sometimes, I wished my sense of smell wasn't this strong.

Malia pressed a firm hand on my back, urging me to move towards the dancing crowd.

I did, taking leisurely steps.

I spotted Kira across the room, lounging on a couch, and Scott, sitting on a seat to my right. We all briefly shared eye contact and then averted our eyes for the sake of suspicion.

The room felt super hot and sticky, due to the amount of sweaty bodies that swayed around me. The loud thumping music made me feel exhilarated. I could feel the bass in my chest, vibrating through me. Malia and I tried to squish through the bodies, making it to the middle of the dance room but the crush of people around me was like a suffocating ocean.

We danced against each other, and other people, trying to fit in.

I listened in for Stiles and Lydia, but got nothing.

Ten minutes later, I tuned into them mid-conversation. They were chatting about how terrible the plan was, which I couldn't disagree with.

"This could be the stupidest plan we've ever come up with. You're away of that right?" Lydia's melodious raspy voice was almost hard to pick up over the thumping music.

"I'm aware it's not our best." He breathed.

"We are going to die." She vocalized. I couldn't tell if she was being melodramatic or if her banshee powers were starting to ensue.

"Yeah? Are you saying that as a banshee? Or just being pessimistic?"

"I'm saying it as a person who doesn't wanna die…"

"Okay…" Stiles trailed off. "Well, would you mind restricting any talk of death to actual banshee predictions?"

"This plan is stupid, we're going to die." She said tartly.

"Oh thank you!" He said in a sarcastic tone.

I smirked to myself, tuning them out.

I glanced to Malia, who was having way too much fun dancing. She swayed her body, pumping her fists into the air. I giggled when I saw her dancing that way.

"Come on!" She grabbed my hands, "Dance! Get into the music!" We intertwined our hands and swayed our hips in unison.

We danced like that for a few minutes, occasionally doing spins or twirls, until Stiles and Lydia walked in.

I saw him quickly glance in my direction, but I couldn't tell if he was looking at me, or just observing the large crowd.

I peered up at the man up above, checking in on him, but had no disappeared, I used my vision to find him in the crowd, but he wasn't dancing either.

I shrugged, and turned back to Malia, focusing most of my attention behind me, towards Stiles and Lydia.

"So," I heard a man with a Spanish accent, "American teenagers don't come across the border to refuse a drink."

I couldn't help it, the curiosity got to me. I turned my head slightly to the left so I could get a view of the man. He stood, with his hands draped over Lydia and Stiles.

"We didn't come to drink." Lydia stated, dropping a bullet into a shot glass that was placed in front of her.

Instead of saying anything, the man gripped Stiles and Lydia's shoulder's tight, steering them towards the door Malia and I entered in.

I heard footsteps shuffled own the hallway and looked back to Malia. I thought she would be listening in, but there was no sign that told me she had. Instead she just grinned widely, talking in the euphoric energy around her.

People bumped me and pushed me and I kept moving closer and closer to Malia and the other humans around me. It made me uncomfortable, being so close to all these humans, but Malia's smell over-powered the rest.

When I tuned back into the conversation I heard the clicking of a gun, and then an older woman with a husk, monotone, accented voice, harshly whisper, "Not smart to come alone."

"What makes you think we came alone?" Stiles threatened.

There was silence, and I smirked to myself, feeling my eyes burn red.

Surprisingly, Scott's plan was going accordingly. They hadn't expected us, and we anticipated that.

"You brought a wolf into my home?"Araya, assumingly, said acidly.

"We brought an alpaha."

My eyes flickered to Scott, who' eyes were also red. He huffed, his large chest moving up and down, and clenched his fists with a strong smile.

I heard a door click open and my head whipped to the door Stiles exited through, but it wasn't Stiles. It was a large, scruffy man, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. I narrowed my eyes at him. He observed the room, scanning it from left to right.

He wasn't the only one doing that, there were at least five or six tough looking guys, encompassing the crowd.

I looked to Malia, whose eyes were unblinkingly bug-eyed.

"Something's happening." That was Kira's voice.

Malia and I made room for her, dancing in our own little circle.

"What are we supposed to do?"

"Blend in," Malia spat, as if it should have been so obvious.

Kira bit her lip, looking nervous as the crowd pushed her and bumped her, like a wave in the ocean.

"Dance with us, dumb ass!" Malia shouted over the music.

"Oh.."

I looked to Kira, who was making awkward dance moves. She tried to sway her body, but she looked like she was just thrusting the air. I giggled to myself.

Malia cocked her head, smiling and tried to hide the laugh forming.

Kira cocked her head back.

I just laughed and locked eyes with Malia. Malia smiled. I smiled back, knowing what she was thinking. She took a large step towards Kira, removing the gap between them, and put her hand on her waist. She started swaying their bodies back and forth, pumping their fists in the air.

I threw my head back, laughing.

I was actually having a good time with these two, despite the probable death.

I got closer to them, swinging my hips back and forth and running a hand through my messy hair.

Man, it felt good to let go, dance, and just do whatever I want.

The smile on Kira's face was priceless. Eventually she wrapped her arms around Kira's neck and they circled around.

I couldn't stop laughing.

"What's wrong?" Malia shouted.

"Nothing!" I screamed back with a huge smile.

She gave me a closed-lipped smile, and moved closer to me. She placed one hand on my hip, and ran the other through her hair.

I didn't understand the lyrics what so ever because they were in Spanish but it was still so entertaining. When Kira finally let loose, she ended up not being so awkward about dancing, and we all danced together. People started to crowd around us, encompassing us with their bodies. Everyone was pressed up against each other, dancing.

I smiled again, looking at Malia, then gazed passed her. Two of the people in leather jackets started talking, whispering to each other.

I turned my field of vision to Scott, who wasn't in his place anymore.

I looked back to the two people, and only saw one, now.

Next thing I know, Scott comes out from behind a pillar and elbow's the guy's throat, temporarily cutting off his breathing. He fell to the ground without anyone noticing. He picked up the walkie talkie and I heard him threaten, "Stiles, take ten off the table."

Things were really started to heat up now. Malia raised her eyebrows, wiggling them. Scott disappeared back into the crowd, walkie talkie with him.

I looked to Kria, who was nodding to the left corner of the room.

One of the men who was guarding the crowd, pushed through the dancers, heading straight for us.

"Just keep dancing…" I ordered through my teeth.

He pushed person out of person away. I saw a suspicious looking woman move to the other side of Kira, and let's just say, she wasn't dancing.

Malia nodded behind me, and I didn't need to look to know someone was there. They were aware of us now, and they were ready to take us down.

"Ready?" Malia asked.

We all nodded.

We all whipped around, taking a protective stance.

A short man came hurdling toward me, pushing over every person in his way. I planted my feet, and pulled my fists out. Derek had been teaching me new fighting moves the last few weeks before he disappeared and I was ready to try them out.

He ran faster towards me and when the time was right, I jumped into the air, landing on his shoulders, I wrapped my thighs around his head, and flipped my body around, doing a complete 360 in the air. His body slammed against the floor, and for a split second I was afraid I used too much force and could've killed him. But I saw the rise and fall of his chest and felt calmer.

Scott came into my field of vision, grabbing a guy's throat and slamming him against the cement pillar. He fell to the ground with a light thud, and groaned. He attempted to get himself back up, but Scott took care of him. He grabbed him again and threw him against the wall, which cracked, breaking through the drywall.

I high fived my cousin, smiling.

We all found each other and regrouped. Scott nodded at each one of us, making sure we were good, and then exited the club, entering the hallway Malia and I entered in.

"There," I pointed to the only other door in the hallway."

Scott took no time in trying t unlock the door. He broke it, getting frustrated with the amount of time lost, and pushed the door open.

We walked down each hallway, listening in to Araya to try to find where they were.

Feeling a sense of being watched, I looked back, but there was no one there.

I shivered. The dimly lit hallway was creepy, and put a damper on our moods.

I heard a hissing noise and instantly jerked my head to it. "What's that?" I asked Scott.

There was a mist forming, no, a spray. Something was spraying out of a retractable hose in the wall. It smelled odd, like bleach and chemicals. The mist started to form a cloud, continually getting bigger as the hose sprayed.

Scott pushed his hand back, signaling us to stop.

We all kind of huddled together, scared of the forming mist. I prayed this wasn't some poisonous mist like in the hunger games.

Scott took one step, and then another, trying to discover what it was.

There was another hissing noise, and then I heard the buzzing as the retractable hoses from the ceiling pulled out.

It started spraying the mist at us aggressively.

I could hardly see any of them anymore, I just tried to push the mist away as if it would help.

"Wolfsbane.. It's wolfsbane!" Scott screamed over the hiss. "Kira, Anna! Get out!"

I debated leaving Scott, and decided to go for it. He wouldn't die from the wolfsbane, and this way if something went wrong at least Kira and I could devise some sort of plan to come back and attack.

There was numerous cough's coming from Malia and Scott. They collapsed to the floor, trying to hold onto the walls to keep themselves up.

I bit my lip, taking one last glance at them, and then followed Kira back down the hallway.

"Watch out!" I heard Scott yell.

I ran straight into a strong, buff man's chest. Ready to attack, I threw a punch at him with all the force I missed. It just skidded across his jaw.

Kira brought out a pair of nun chucks and swung them at the man.

The man swung a large rifle at her head, knocking her out.

I pushed the man against the wall, breaking some of of dry wall flew everywhere. The man gasped for air, but not before removing the safety clip on his gun and releasing a bullet right into my chest. It came ricocheting towards me, hitting just under my right collarbone.

I gasped, discharging the man, and looked at my wound. The blood started to trickle out of me, so I placed my hand on it to try to stop the bleeding. I started to feel weak, and I attempted to grasp the wall for support, but came up short. Instead of screaming in pain, I moaned. It felt painful, but not as painful as yesterday.

The loss of blood tired me out, and when a pair of hands wrapped gripped my arms, dragging me across the floor, I didn't fight back.

"Someone who has been an alpha for only a few months should be more careful when facing a hunter of forty years." I peered up to see the face of the woman I heard earlier. She stood triumphantly in front of my cousin, the alpha.

Scott coughed and spat, clutching his chest. "All we want…. Is… Derek…"

"You're a long way from home." She grinned.

Scott cocked his head, breathing deeply. "You don't know where he is either…"

She frowned, and whipped out some type of high voltage stick. She furrowed her brows and touched the stick to Scott's skin.

I heard his agonizing scream, almost felt it, and saw the zaps of electricity run through him as he fell to the floor.

I saw the fury in Araya's face. She had us right in the palm of her hands, surrounded by hunters, but now, Scott knew her secret.

The only question was, if Derek wasn't here, then where was he?

"Take them downstairs." She ordered.

There were four or five guys now, dragging each one of us. Kira and I were the most conscious ones but the gash on her head told me it wouldn't be for much longer. The men started dragging all four of our bodies. Kira tried to fight back, as well as Malia, but we were all too weak. I just breathed, saving my energy for when we really needed it. I just needed this bullet out of me, and then I would have some strength back. I felt too weak to even stand right now.

The men lifted us down the stairs, but my back hit every concrete step. I moaned in pain, but the hunter just shook his head in disgust.

They threw us in this concrete room, with only a couple of pillars, a bench or two, and some rusty sinks, as well as some broken tiles on the floor. The fluorescent lights hurt my eyes after coming from the dimly let hallway.

We were in some type of old basement, or cellar.

I moaned once again when I hit the stairs, feeling the sharp pain as the bullet pushed deeper into me. Kira landed on top of me, which made it worse.

I just laid my head on the cement floor, letting the cement floor cool down my forehead.

I heard the door shut, and then there were at least ten clicks.

"Shit…" I breathed. I hadn't realized how compacted we would be in this cellar. There were assumedly about four barriers shutting. There would be no way we could get out, not even with my strength. And if they had retractable hoses in the wall that dispensed wolfsbane, who knew what those barriers were made of? Hell, who knew what they would do to us trapped in here.

"Oh my God…" Someone muttered from behind us. Footsteps ran towards us, coming closer and closer.

I felt someone lift Scott beside me, and then lift Kira off of me, and then finally pick me up.

I came face to face with Stiles, but my vision blurred, seeing two of him. No, four.

The bullet in my chest throbbed, and I tried to touch it again with my hand.

"Are you guys okay? Shit.." Stiles breathed, moving me so I could lay horizontally on one of the large concrete stairs. "What did they do?"

"Wolfsbane.."

I heard Malia cough from a distance, but heard nothing from Scott. "Is Scott okay?" I asked.

"He's out cold," Kira replied.

I glanced to my right, seeing her body hover over him. There was a sign of breathing, but no sign of consciousness in him. He would wake up in a few minutes, we just had to wait.

My chest started to tighten, and I feel like I couldn't breathe. I sat up, and put my hand to my injury again. It had stopped bleeding now, but that meant it was healing.

"I need to get this out." I tried to grasp the bullet with my fingers.

Stiles placed a hand on my shoulder, intently watching me. I could see the frantic worry in his eyes as he watched me try to take out the bullet.

I tried to dig my finger and thumb through the first layer of skin. I ahd to break through some of it, which was stung.

I moaned.

Stiles jumped at my reaction, gripping my shoulder tighter.

I just had to go for it. I had to dig my hand in there and rip it out, just like pulling off a band-aid. I gritted my teeth, prepping myself.

I took a large breathe in through my nostrils, and breathed it out through my mouth. I dug my fingers deeper in my chest, grasping the bullet. I gripped it as tight as I could, and pulled it out, groaning in pain.

The bullet landed on a floor, with a small 'ting' noise, leaving a trail of blood as it rolled towards Malia.

"I'm going to kill them." I spat through my teeth.

"No you aren't" Stiles admonished with a slight groan as he helped me up.

"Yes, I'm going to kill them." I insisted

Stiles snickered at my comment.

I peered over at Malia, who leaned against one of the broken pillars in the room, her arms crossed over her chest, an infuriated facial expression.

"You alright Malia?" I croaked.

She didn't reply, just gazed at the floor with this aura of fury around her.

I turned my attention to Stiles, who shrugged at Malia's ignorance. I raised my eyebrows, shrugging back.

"Wait." I froze, "Where's Lydia?"

I searched for one of my best friends, but it appeared she wasn't here. I tried to pick up any sound coming from her, smell any scent she gave off, but came up unlucky.

Stiles expression turned serious, "Araya took her."

I stomped my feet, like a two year old. I filled with resentment. This hunter was really started to piss me off. I cursed over and over, showing my hatred for this woman.

Stiles unblinkingly watched as I cursed, letting me express my emotions. "Did you find Derek?" he asked after a while.

"He's not here." I inferred angrily.

"What?" He twitched, eyes wide, "Then where is he?"

"I have no idea." I pressed my lips tightly together, "But I'd like to find out."

"So do you think you can open the door?" Stiles inquired.

"Maybe…" I bit my lip, walking over to it. Stiles trailed behind me, pausing at the steps when I walked up them.

"Woah." Something to the left of the door caught my attention. What I thought was broken fragments of drywall falling out due to the age of this room, were actually claw marks. Deep scratches coated the whole room. There were scratches on the pillars, the walls, some claw marks on the door, even on the cement stairs.

I looked back to Stiles, who was observing the claw marks just as I did.

An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of my stomach as I placed my hands on the large door. I attempted to wedge my hands through the opening of the door, but it would not open. It wouldn't even budge. The door was made of steel, it must have weighed tones. How did they close it?

I moved to the side of the sliding doors, trying to lodge my hands in there, but again, no luck.

I sighed in frustration, trying to throw a punch at the door. It left a small dent in the door, but nothing like my force usually would do.

"Hey, it's alright," Stiles pulled me back down the steps, placing a hand on my hip.

I felt a little lighter, and happier, with his hands placed there, instead of Malia's or Kira's. I smirked to myself, walking back towards the middle of the room.

"He's awake," Kira reported with a concerned tone of voice. "Guys! He's awake.

Stiles and I trotted over, lingering above Scott. Malia peered over my shoulder, trying to get a good sight of Scott.

We watched as his eyes blinked profusely, trying to focus on our faces above him.

"Scott, you okay?" Stiles entreated.

His eyes widened, and he started to breath heavily, attempting to prop himself up.

Kira and I kneeled down to him, helping him sit himself up.

He took large gulps of air. "They don't have him! They don't have Derek!" He panted.

"We know." Kira muttered, "But right now they've got Lydia."

A look of overwhelming fear extended across his face. "Lydia?! What do they want with Lydia?" He panicked.

"We don't know." I countered.

He jolted up in a panic, but swayed back due to him jumping up so fast. I placed my hands on his back, trying to keep him from falling.

"Whoa…" He massaged the top of his forehead. Once he balanced himself, I let him go, and he sprinted towards the door.

"I already tried," I apprised, "It won't open."

He ignored me, pushing on the door repeatedly. He tried to lodge his fingers in the crevasses of the doors, but failed just as I did. He huffed, trying to heave the door open. It creaked, but there was no sign of movement. Once he saw that my words were true, he gave up.

"We already looked for a way out," Kira informed him, "And I think a lot of people have," She nodded her head, referring to the claw marks all over the room.

Scott followed her nod, inspecting the claw marks. He ran his hand over them.

"Or werewolves..." I mumbled.

"I say when the door open's again, we take out whoever's standing in the way and make a run for it." Malia devised.

"What about Lydia?" Kira asked her.

"What about her?" She shot a glowering expression to Kira.

"We're not leaving without her." Scott interrupted, moving away from the door.

She frowned, "Why not?"

I scratched my head and took a step towards her, sighing. She was still learning, and it was hard for Kira and Scott to understand that. "Because we don't leave our friends. Remember?" I asked, alluding to our teachings a few weeks ago.

"Yeah," Stiles added, stepping closer to Malia and I. "Rules of the animal kingdom, don't apply to friends. Right?"

"Is that what you would do as a coyote?" We all glanced to Kira. "Leave her for dead?"

"If she was weak and injured, yeah." She said with ease. "If hunting would be bad that season I would eat her…. Then I'd leave."

I locked eyes with Stiles. We would have to go over a lot more with her. Rules of the animal kingdom definitely did not apply to friends. She needed to learn that. Stiles scratched his chin, and I ran a hand through my hair.

"Okay… Alright. Malia, we don't leave friends." I dictated.

"Believe it or not, that's progress…" Stiles gestured towards us.

The look of disgust on Kira's face made me chuckle.

"Alright, guys, we're not dead yet. Araya wants something." Scott clarified.

"But if the Calavera's don't know where Derek is, that means they didn't take him from the loft. Right?" Kira added.

"Maybe he left on his own?" I felt Stiles replace his hand on my hip.

"Or maybe someone else got to him" I insinuated.

Scott's wide eyes were fixed on mine, and I heard his heartbeat pick up in fear. His heartbeat sounded like the footsteps, getting louder and louder, only now, I realized it wasn't his heart I was hearing, it was actual footsteps.

"They're coming," I stated, referring to the hunters, "Get ready."

The tension in the air strengthened as we waited for their arrival. When the door's clicked and it slid open, we were ready to pounce.

Everything happened so fast, though. At least four hunters tackled me, and I tried to escape using my speed, but their grip was so tight. One of them used that high voltage tazers they hit Scott with and smacked it against my leg.

"No!" I heard Stiles yell. I wasn't sure if it was at me, or the battle Kira and Scott were fighting against two other hunters.

I shrieked as I felt the jolt of electricity run through me.

An explosion of pain extended across my body, and I fell to the ground, momentarily paralyzed. I wouldn't be like this for long, but it was long enough for them to grab Scott and Kira and shut the doors again. If Scott wasn't so weak from the wolfsbane he would be able to fight back.

Stiles and Malia ran over to me, kneeling down.

"I'm good, I'm fine," I reassured, feeling my body return to normal.

Stiles sighed, the panic flushing out of him, and sat down beside me.

"Where are they taking them?" Malia questioned.

"I don't know…" I replied, trying to listen.

My hearing was kind of fuzzy. It was hard to focus on Scott or Kira's voice.

"Can you hear them?" Stiles jumped up, pacing back and forth.

I sullenly shook my head, scrunching my eyes shut, "All I can hear is this stupid buzzing noise."

"Okay…Okay. Can you hear Kira? Lydia?" His frantic footsteps skipped back and forth. "Anybody? What are they saying?"

"I can't… this buzzing…." The buzzing got louder and louder. I reopened my eyes. "it must be from that tazer."

"Malia?" Stiles turned to her, "Can you?"

Malia was trying to focus on her hearing, but came up unlucky as well. She shook her head. "There's too many sounds… and voices."

Stiles nodded fervently, watching her as she ran over to the door, trying to pry it open it with all her force.

I gazed up at Stiles, frowning.

"Hey," he saw my sullen expression, and froze, "Hey, its okay." He knelt down in front of me and locked his eyes with mine. "Just listen to the buzzing noise, focus on me. You'll hear something."

I stared into his big brown doe eyes, and couldn't hear anything anymore, period.

"Just relax, okay? Just focus on the sound of my voice, just concentrate, alright?" He placed his warm hand on my thigh, gripping it tightly. "Concentrate. "

I closed my eyes, the corner of my lips quirking upward.

"What?" He panicked "What is it?"

I smiled even more, "I can't focus if you're doing that."

"Doing what?" His head tilted questioningly to the left.

"Your hand."

He looked down to where his hand was placed, and released my thigh, like it was a hot plate that had scolded him. "Oh." He licked his lips, falling to my side. He nervously tapped his fingers against his own legs, "I'm sorry. Just focus on the buzzing, maybe you'll hear something. Concentrate… Focus.. Listen…"

I grinned to myself, and placed my hands on the side of his face, interrupting his speech.

He was stunned when I pulled him closer, but co-operated when our lips touched. Our lips moved together in unison and it felt good to have his warm breath heat up my cold lips.

I felt like I had exploded inside, spitting out rainbows and sunshine. It's like our lips were two puzzle pieces, mending perfectly together now that they touching. We hadn't kissed since that night, and now we were.

I could feel the smile on his lips as I latched on to his top lip.

I gave him one last peck, and released him.

He fell back, out of breath, with a smile.

I smiled, but the buzzing got louder and louder. I shielded my ears with my hands, and Stiles grew frenzied. He sat up, kneeling beside me, and yelled something, but I couldn't hear it. All I could hear was the buzzing.

It overpowered everything.

That was when it came to me.

It was electricity. There were bolts of electricity resurrecting somewhere in the building.

I heard Kira's cry, and Lydia's shriek's, and the last thing I heard was a large zapping noise, and my cousin's agonizing scream.

**A/N: I'M BACK! I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long... I just had such bad writers block and had no idea no how to incorporate Anna into this season and try to make it into a way where it isn't boring. But I have a plan, I'll continue to write, and I hope you guys will still read this! Now that I've watched the entire season it's a bit easier of me to plan ahead. Thank you for the continuous reviews and follows plus favorites. Let me know what you think of this chapter :) **


	3. Chapter 3

"What is it? What's he saying?" Stiles shook my frozen body.

I had been listening for a few minutes now. Araya and her hunters were torturing them. Scott was in an electric chair, as well as Lydia. Because Kira was immune to it, they had forced her to turn the dial, electrocuting Scott every time he decided not to co-operate.

If he refused to co-operate, they would electrocute Lydia who would surely die with one zap.

There was so much yelling, so many noises, all these screams… I watched as the lights fluorescent lights above us flickered.

"Anna?" Stiles' attention was completely on me, as well as Malia's. I tried to drown them out, focusing on certain voices like Araya's and Scott's.

"Someone else took him, someone else took Derek." I quickly explained to them, hopefully focusing their attention on my appalling information instead of me.

There was another scream emitting from my cousin, but halfway through its deafening noise, he roared, like a wolf.

"What? Who?" Stiles kept shaking my shoulders, trying to get me to fess up but I pushed him off of me, closing my eyes.

I heard Araya harshly whisper, "Say the name Scott."

He struggled to breathe, calming himself down. "Kate." He declared.

"Anna!" Stiles screamed in my ear. "Who took him?"

I winced, moving away from him. "Kate. Someone named Kate took him."

"No." Stiles' face contorted into all sorts of emotions. "That's impossible. That's i-impossible." He stuttered, "That can't be what he said."

"Why?" Malia questioned beside me, "Who's Kate?"

"She's a hunter." He licked his lips.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Like the Calavera's?"

He shook his head, holding his breath. "An Argent."

A surge of pain ran through me hearing that name. It made me miss Allison.

"Wait wait wait…" I gestured a hand for him to stop, not that he was even talking. "In the hospital room after I woke up from my accident you and Scott explained everything to me, about werewolves, kanimas, the nemeton. You told me about Allison's aunt."

I could see the pained expression on his face and we both knew what this was alluding to.

"You said her name was Kate, that she died trying to kill Peter. You said her throat was slashed by his claws. You told me she was dead."

Stiles slowly lifted his head up and down. "I thought she was dead."

"Why can't anyone ever stay dead?" I asked throwing my head back and lifting my hands to the sky.

The door lurching open startled us. We all stood from our positions, ready to fight again, but we relaxed when we saw Scott, Kira, Lydia, Araya and another hunter intently eyeing us.

"Well are you coming, or what?" Scott shrugged, his beige jacket sliding off his shoulder.

"Umm…" I looked to Stiles and Malia, took a gulp of air, and nodded. "Yeah, I guess?"

We followed them out of the basement and started walking up numerous stairs. When I saw the sunlight outside I practically screamed for joy.

They lead us out a door we didn't come through, and we all trailed behind Araya. We were in a small town square with a road beside us. There weren't many people around, just the occasional hunter or two passing by.

"So you're just letting us go?" I asked her, moving past Kira.

"I sent four men out to where Kate was rumored to have been seen and none of them came back." The un-phased expression on her face disgusted me. "Let's see if you guys can do better."

Stiles put an arm around my waist and towed me to his jeep on the small street beside us. Kira and Lydia followed us. We all reclined against the jeep, waiting for Scott to finish his conversations with the enemy.

"You could have just told me she was alive." Scott moved in front of me, facing Araya.

"You wouldn't have believed me," She smirked, "Now I know what kind of alpha you are."

Scott arched a brow.

"And where your next step lies." She hissed.

"What next step?"

"When you take the bite of an innocent. When you make a wolf of your own. When you do that, then I will cross your border and come knocking on your door." She threatened, walking away.

I tuned out of the conversation, and Scott came sauntering back a few minutes later.

"So what now?" Stiles asked, lifting himself off the jeep.

"She thinks she knows where we kind find Derek." He shoved his hands in his pocket, sighing.

"Is she gonna tell us where?" Malia asked.

"Actually, she's giving us a guide." He made a face.

Stiles cocked his head, wondering just like the rest of us.

We diverted out attention to the loud motorcycle rumbling down the street. The motorcycle came speeding through the street, dodging people, before finally parking beside the jeep, almost hitting Stiles might I add.

He jumped towards me, and I held him in position, my fingers on his hips.

The anonymous guide lifted his, or should I say, her, helmet off, revealing a woman.

Not that I was sexist or anything, this was just unexpected.

Jealously overwhelmed me when I saw her flawless chocolately brown skin. Her long brown curls blew in the breeze as she fiddled with her helmet. The most startling aspect of her appearance was the 4 elongated claw marks dragging from her cheek bone, down her neck, and to her collar bone almost. The marks were scarred over, which stood out on her neck due to her envious dark skin tone. I could only reflect on one beast that was capable of causing the gruesome scars, a werewolf. Despite the notability of them, they made her look even more bad ass.

Stiles smacked Scott in the chest, pointing to the girl, who was now brushing out her curls with her fingertips. "You know her?"

"Braeden." Scott said hesitantly.

"Who's Braeden?" Malia snared.

Lydia huffed a breath beside me. "She's a mercenary."

What the hell was a mercenary?

"Right now I'm the only one who can take you to La Iglesia." Her voice was soft, comforting almost. It totally contradicted this whole bad-ass look she had. The leather boots, the big jacket, the black gloves. I had to admit, she looked insanely awesome sitting on that bike.

"The church?" Lydia pursed her lipstick-covered lips.

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "What's the church?"

"It's not a place you'll find God." She started the motorcycle, again, startling all of us as she revved the engine. "Come on, get in the jeep and start following me, wolf boy."

Scott nodded, as Stiles scratched his head, his keys jingling.

We walked around to the side of the car, entering it. Once again, we all illegally squished into the back seat. Scott in the front, Kira, Lydia, Malia, and I in the back.

We started the car, following the mercenary in front of us. The sun would start setting soon, so we had to hurry in order to make it to Derek while it was still light.

After exiting the city, we were met with a fork road.

Braden took a sharp left, and we pursued after her.

The jeep bounced, entering a deserted, idle road. The concrete pavement had ended and we were now driving on the desert floor.

I peered out the window. I was somewhat thankful for having the window seat beside Scott, looking out the window made me feel less nauseated in a speeding, crowded, warm car.

There wasn't much to see on this track. Just shrub, rubble, and a few mountains. It looked boiling out there. I could see the heat waves as they rose off the ground, radiating across the arid wasteland. I was tremendously thankful for the air conditioning in Stiles' jeep.

It was quite the change of scenery.

"Okay, I'll ask." Malia disrupted, leaning towards the boys. "Who's Kate Argent?"

"Uh," Kira raised her hand, "I'd like to know too."

"Well," Stiles started, "We were at her funeral. So I'd like to know how she got out of a casket buried six feet underground."

"She was never in it."

I raised my eyebrows at Scott's statement. Malia and Kira shared the same reaction as me.

"She was Allison's Aunt." Lydia lifted her head up, speaking to us. "And a totally sociopath" An eye roll sprung from her.

I watched as Scott relaxed in the seat in front of me. He blew out a breath through his nose, and crossed his arms over his chest.

We were all avoiding the topic of Allison these last few weeks, but now we were forced to speak about her. Out of all the people, it pained Scott most of all. "You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want too." I told Scott.

"Umm, yes he does." Malia glowered.

"She's right." Scott whispered. "You guys should know. You need to know."

"Alright," Stiles drummed his finger's on the steering wheel. "Kate was the one who set the fire that killed most of Derek's family."

I winced, imagining his house burning up in flames, kids screaming inside, attempting to escape with their lives.

"Some of them survived, like Cora and Peter," Scott added.

"A very angry Peter." Lydia lifted her arm up to her chin, resting on her hand as she peered out the window.

"Yeah, he's the one who bit and turned me."

"And the one who finally caught up to Kate, and killed her." Lydia affirmed with simplicity.

"Yeah but we saw he buried." Stiles came back with.

"No," he objected, "We saw a casket, remember? She wasn't in it. The Calavera's heard that Kate had been killed by an alpha's claws and they wanted to make sure that she was really dead. Her body was healing, though. More and more as it got closer to the full moon. She was coming back. So they switched out the bodies and took her. If a hunter's bit they have to take their own life before they change. The Calavera's… they treat the code like law and they make it their responsibility to enforce it."

"Good for her." Malia leaned back in her seat, her shoulder resting on my arm. "I wouldn't do it either."

"Would you kill thousands of people to get out? Because that's what she did."

"So Kate's a werewolf now?" I rejoined.

"I don't know." He said truthfully. "But there's this saying 'sometimes the shape you take reflects the person you are'".

"What kind of shape is a sociopathic bitch?"

I tried to hide my laugher at Lydia's comment,

Unanticipatedly, the jeep flew upwards, hitting something on the ground. It landed with a small crash and the vehicle started to slow down, making loud thumping noises. "Aww no…" Stiles frowned. "Come on!" He punched the steering wheel, taking out his frustration. The jeep rolled to a stop, and Stiles groaned. He tried to restart the car, but zilch happened.

Lydia franticly leaned over Stiles chair. "What happened?"

Alternatively to replying, Stiles and Scott jumped out of the jeep.

"Why now?" I asked, pushing Scott's seat forward so I could exit the vehicle.

I watched Braeden pull over ahead, and sprint back to us. "What happened?" She raised her hands in the air, aggravated.

"I don't know," Stiles explained, "I felt like we hit something."

"Scott," Braden scrutinized, "We need to get there by night. It's too dangerous otherwise."

Stiles' eyes darted from the jeep back to Scott. "Go." He waved them away.

"Not without you," He shook his head.

"Someone needs to find Derek," I yelled at my cousin over the roaring win that fashioned out of nowhere.

"We'll figure something out, we always do." Stiles bolstered. "Just go."

Scott shrugged his shoulders back, internally disputing with himself.

"Dude, just go. We'll be fine." I told him.

He glanced back at me and nodded.

Braeden ran over to her bike, gearing up as she intolerantly waited for Scott to join her.

"Scott! Wait," Kira pushed past me as soon as Scott started to depart from us.

I let her pass by me and turned to Lydia and Stiles, who were trying to prop the hood open.

Stiles finally popped the hood, coughing at the excessive amount of smoke that released from the engine. He tried to smack it away with his hand, hacking due to the inhalation of smoke.

When the smoke dissipated into the dusty wind, I leaned closer to the jeep, trying to get a high-quality look. I didn't know a thing about cars, which made Stiles surpass me in something, for once.

I glanced back to Scott quickly, seeing him ride off into the dusk with Braeden, taking a sharp bend in the road and then returned my attention to the jeep.

"Do you know what's wrong with it?" I asked Stiles.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Malia interrupted him, calling out his name.

"Yeah?" He yelled back over the wind whistling.

"I don't think we hit something." She replied.

I frowned, walking over to her with Stiles. She was crouched by the side of the jeep, yanking something out of it.

She flew back a little when she finally got the object that was wedged between the jeep and its tire. She directly handed it to him, and Stiles held up to the little light that was left in the sky.

"What the hell is that?"

Stiles tilted his head at the object, his mouth agape.

It was some type of dagger, but it looked like it had been carved out of a human bone. Kira finally walked back to us, observing the weapon placed in Stiles' hand.

No one said anything, just perplexedly gawked at it.

"Hold on to this," He handed it to me, and I shoved it in my jacket pocket.

I watched him ran to the back of his jeep, opening the trunk and grabbing some tools. He trotted back after seizing his necessities and attempted to complete his quest on fixing the thing he cared most about, his jeep.

I watched for a few minutes as he climbed on top of his jeep and aided to it, occasionally asking questions. He suspected that this bone dagger had punctured something underneath the jeep, causing it to stall and then finally stop. He just had to tighten some gears, figure some things out, and then we would hope for the best from there.

A good hour passed before the sun finally drowned over the horizon, its last rays of light's glittering in the manifesting blanket of darkness.

I leaned against the front of the jeep, looking out into the wasteland. The dagger in my pocket began to press into my side. I pulled it out from my pocket and held it firmly in my hands. What on earth was this? Who did it come from? This whole desert was pretty exposed, apart from the few mountains and bushes that could, possibly, potentially conceal someone. But who would want to sabotage us? If it was something on the road, we would have ran over it, popping the tire, but someone deliberately targeted us with this, complicating our journey to save Derek even more.

"Maybe we should just walk." Lydia proposed, staring out into the expansive land.

Stiles worked away, cranking something with his wrench, and froze in response to Lydia's words. His jaw clenched as a tight-lipped smile formed on his face. He stabbed a finger towards her. "Hey! I will **never **abandon this jeep. You understand me? **Ever**." He flipped a screwdriver in his hand, holding a wrench between his faultless teeth, and started a new task.

I involuntarily assumed Lydia rolled her eyes at Stiles' determination in saving his vehicle.

I observed the five of us. We all looked alike, dark clusters of dirt sticking to our fces do the wind aggressively forcing dust on us. I huffed an annoyed breath.

The desert began to enclose me into a sense of uneasiness. You know that feeling you get, when you feel like you're being watched? That's what I was experiencing right now. It's like someone had witnessed us plummet right into the palm of their hands, entrapping us. It appeared I wasn't the only one feeling that way, either.

Malia started to wander farther from the jeep, sniffing the air for a scent, and Kira clutched her katana that was slung around her waist like a belt.

I sniffed the air, like Malia did, and lifted myself off the jeep, gazing near the cluster of bushes beside the mountain closest to us. I couldn't pick up a distinct scent. Actually, the problem was I picked up too many scents. This wind had created the perfect environment for us supernatural creatures to endure in. I smelled werewolf/coyote, kitsune, banshee, human, even a cat or two, or other human scents I did not recognize coming from the opposite side of the desert we had ascending from.

It might have just been superfluous paranoia, but I suspected we weren't alone in this inhospitable surroundings.

"Work faster, Stiles." I commanded, scanning the mountains with my eyes, "There is something out here with us."

I could feel the penetrating stare him and Lydia gave my back, but ignored it.

Malia began to fret more than I did, doing a 360 scan of our surroundings. She moved closer to me, sniffing the air over and over.

"Too much wind," I told her.

"I know." She sniveled. "It's annoying. All these scent's give me a headache."

I nodded in agreement, my eyes locked ahead of me incase anything crossed my path of vision.

"What do you think is out there?" She bumped me with her arm.

I gulped a mouthful of salivation, "I have no idea."

"Lydia! Will you please just hold the flashlight still? It's really hard to see when you keep shaking it like that." Stiles snapped.

I strained at his outburst, removing myself off the jeep.

"I'm shaking like this because we're in the middle of nowhere with your broken down jeep and I think we're being attack by yet, _another, _razor clawed monster." She breathed in and out, "And I'm terrified."

"Well just be slightly less terrified!" He cranked his wrench, tightening something in the jeep's engine, but not before glaring at Lydia.

I sighed, walking around the jeep to where Lydia stood, shivering in the cold night breeze. I took the flashlight from her hand and shined it at Stiles' jeep, trying to keep it as stable as possible.

"Thank you…" Lydia rolled her eyes at Stiles as if they were two siblings at variance over something so silly.

"Hold this," Stiles instructed, hauling up a piece of metal with wire's sticking out of it and grease stains encompassing it.

"What's this?" I arched a brow.

"I don't know," he paused, "I'm hoping it's not important."

"Oh God…" I shook my head, sighing.

I _thought _Stiles knew what he was doing when it came to cars, but perhaps not.

I glanced up to the night sky.

The last minutes of light were way gone, by now. It was just after ten o'clock and we shivered in the night breeze. There were patches of clear sky and small clusters of clouds that draped over the giant moon like a shear blanket. It seemed bigger and brighter than usual, probably due to the immense darkness we were in.

The only light we had was from Stiles' headlights and the flashlight I held in my hand.

I could see for miles owing to the fact that I had supernatural eyesight. Although, the wind and dead shrubs shuffling in the wind made it harder for me to view anything, so another flashlight would help.

As if Kira read my mind, she walked to the front of the jeep and took her katana out of its encasing.

She flipped it horizontally and positioned it in front of one of the jeep's headlights. She used the katana to cut streams of light across the land, shining it with every turn of the katana's handle.

I watched her fiddle as she scanned the land with it, like a flashlight.

I could see much cleared in the distance, now. She moved the light to the nearest mountain, wear a pile of shrubs, some dead trees and animal carcasses lay.

A pair of eyes reflected back at us in the distance. An apprehensive feeling overwhelmed me as I tensed up, narrowing my eyes so I could get a better look at this creature. The creature peeped it's head over a bush, and then disappeared down a path.

"Did you see that?" I handed the flashlight and the car part to Lydia, trotting over to Malia.

"See what?" Stiles asked at the same time Malia let out an enormous growl. Canine teeth protruded from her mouth and her blue eyes glowed brighter then the flashlight.

She ran of sprinting in the other direction.

"Malia wait!" Kira started after her.

"MALIA!" Stiles yelled, but it was no use.

Her coyote instincts took over and she was on a hunt, and there was no stopping her. The least we could do was go get her and aid to her.

"Anna, Kira, go get her. You" She jabbed a finger at Stiles, "fix the jeep."

"Okay," I nodded.

"No!" Stiles anxiously objected. "She'll come back. Please, for the love of God, Anna, don't get yourself hurt. Again."

"I'm not going to get myself hurt." I sent him a small eye roll, "I'll be right back."

My feet started to saunter towards where Malia was headed, but I heard Stiles' outcries as he panicked over my safety. "ANNA!"

"Focus, Stiles!" I heard Lydia hiss, "She's a vampire. She'll be fine. Fix the jeep."

I smirked, and used my supernatural agility to try to catch up to Malia. I flew past Kira, who gave me an odd glance, and paused when I got to the cluster of shrubs. There was a path moving downwards, and then it split into a fork. One way led to more shrubs and the other to a pile of rocks along the side of the tall mountain. They both had sharp corners so I couldn't see around them.

I sniffed for a scent, but got nothing. It was just too windy.

"You go that way I'll go this way." Kira pointed to the shrub area.

I nodded, and moved down the un-even terrain. I didn't sprint this time, I took my time in case anything tried to pounce on me and I wasn't expecting it. I felt my eyes burn red as I scanned my environment for any sign of my friend.

I kept trying to pick up a scent with ever step, but it was so hard. I could smell her scent somewhere, but couldn't tell which direction. At least, I think it was her smell. Part of me wasn't so sure if it wasn't just Scott's leftover werewolf scent from driving down here with Braeden earlier.

"Malia..?" I hesitantly called out, turning to look back in case I was being stalked. I could feel someone's eyes on me and it was a disturbing sensation. "Is someone there?"

I kept walking down the trail, which, evidently, ended a few feet later. I had to shrub-whack as I continuously called her name.

I was just about to repeat her name, when a strong scent overpowered my nostrils. It was an unforgettable scent. It smelt like, well, like death. Like dead animal carcasses had been rotting in the Mexican desert for days, but there were no animal carcasses in sight. It had this rancid smell, which burned my inner nostrils. I had to plug my nose because it was literally starting to make me gag.

"Anna!"

I jolted at my name, but unwinded when I saw Malia sprinting up the mini-hill, clutching her side. Even with her running towards me, it was still difficult to pick up any trace of were-coyote scent. She stumbled up the small hill, grabbing the rocks every now and again, but at last, she reached me. I held my hand out to her, and she took it pleasingly.

"Oh thank God. You're okay." I put my other hand on her shoulder, scanning the rest of her body."Kira!" I jerked my head back to yell in her direction, hoping she would hear me. "Are you okay?" I knew she wasn't. I could already smell the blood that reeked off of her. "What happened? What's out there?"

"I don't know," She panted, glancing over my shoulder to watch Kira join us, "But it is big and fast, and it cuts deep." She moved her hand from the side of her waist to divulge the blood seeping through the whole in her thin, purple, shirt. I recognized that shirt. It was the one I let her borrow last week. Well, she could keep it now. I inspected the small gash that was already starting to heal. I knew she would be fine, but I decided to ask anyways, being polite. "Are you alright? Do you need blood?"

She shook her head, still heaving breaths as she closed her eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Kira gasped due to loss of breath.

Malia nodded.

In unison, our three heads shot to the distant sound of the jeep starting in the distance.

I placed my hands in a praying position, closed my head, and lifted my hands to the sky. "Thank you,"

"Come on, let's go." Malia tugged at my arm, and we all went sprinting back to the jeep, trying to escape whatever beast was lurking out in the dark.

We quickly hopped back in the idling jeep, but not before a few judgmental looks from Stiles and Lydia.

"What the hell was that?" asked Stiles.

I ignored his question, shrugging as I buckled my seatbelt in, taking Scott's place in the jeep this time. The jeep drove with ease, accelerating at a normal pace. Stiles turned the wheel own the same un-pathed road Braeden and Scott drove down.

"You," Stiles raised his voice, pointing at Malia as he eyed her in the rearview mirror. "Don't ever do that again! Please don't do that again."

I couldn't help but chuckle a little at his Malia-lecture. She was like a little child, Stiles her father. He was protective of her, like a sister, I hoped, and not because of what happened a few months ago down in the Eichen's house basement when I caught them kissing.

"What?" Malia glared.

"You guys all just took off— you guys just started running…"

"We were running." Malia diligently blurted back.

"No, I mean…" He sighed, "I thought you were leaving," He quickly glanced back at Malia.

"I did leave."

I even saw a small smile rise upon Lydia's lips at Malia's reaction to Stiles' words. She was so oblivious. She was still trying to understand certain things.

Stiles groaned a sigh, turning to lecture me now. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" I knew what he was referring to; I just wanted to aggravate him. It was amusing.

"You and Kira just ran after her! I mean, not that I think we should've abandoned Malia, but I think she can handle herself." I felt Stiles' brown eyes penetrate me.

I kept my eyes on the dimly lit road ahead, "Malia could've needed my assistance. Who knows what the hell that thing was."

"Exactly..!" He threw a hand up in the air in frustration, "Who knows what it was? It could've been another werewolf. It could've bit you, then what?"

"Well then you'd be carrying a dead vampire carcass back to Beacon Hills." I replied wetting my chapped lips with my tongue.

"That's not funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny, I just—" I hesitated, "I don't want to feel helpless because of some stupid werewolf or coyote, or whatever were-creature it was." I turned around, leaning over my chair, "No offense Malia," I smiled.

"None taken," She replied with a nod.

I sighed, morphing into the uncomfortable, sweat-ridden jeep seat.

"She's right, you know." Malia intruded, "I wouldn't want to sit back either, in fear that I could die from the bite of a werewolf."

"You have no right to talk; you were the one who ran away in the first place!"

I smacked Stiles' arm for that comment that didn't even seem to affect Malia.

"I-I'm sorry Malia." He ran a hand through his messy, partially gelled up hair. "I'm just frustrated. I just want to get to Scott."

She just smiled in the back seat.

"That doesn't look so good," Lydia's pretty, enormous eyes, were on Malia's wound.

She shrugged the comment off, "It's okay."

"Are you sure?" Kira asked. "That looks deep.

She nodded, "I can feel it healing."

"So you didn't see anything?" Lydia asked after a moment of silence.

"Barely. I got a strong scent, though." She replied hastily.

"So did I," I turned back to them.

"Like what?" Stiles asked.

I eyed Malia. We both knew exactly what it smelt like; it was just difficult to put into words. Coincidently, at the same time, we both muttered, "Like death."

I saw Stiles shiver, and witnessed Lydia gulped.

I turned back to look at the road ahead of me, once again. Throughout the next half an hour of driving, buildings started to appear, mostly abandoned ones. Finally, we reached the top of a high-elevation mountain. Below, a city crumbled to rubble.

There were ashes and fractured buildings; the only thing that stood out was the church in the middle of the whole city. It was the only thing that withstood this whole catastrophic earthquake. Underneath the church, was the Aztec temple Scott and Braden were zig-zagging in search for Derek.

When we made it to the bottom of the mountain, we drove straight to the church, the jeep bouncing and grinding against the debris and wreckage of the town.

We finally made it to the church and practically leaped out of it before it rolled to a dusty-filled stop.

No one did anything, just shuffled against the ruins below the soles of or feet. Did we go in? Did we stay here? Did we split up?

"Can you hear anything?" Lydia's head wrenched in my direction.

I expanded my sense of hearing, listening for any sounds. Extremely close by, I heard Scott grunting and Braeden's feminine footsteps.

A few seconds later, they exited the church's doors.

I saw Braeden first.

Scott was next, and Slung over Scott's shoulder was Derek.

But not only was it Derek. It was a jarring, younger adaptation of Derek.

It looked like him and it smelt like him, only this Derek was at least 10 years younger. No more stubble, no more masculine features, just baby-faced, 17 year old Derek. What the hell happened?

The spitting image of him set my jaw permanently dropped, just like Stiles' and Lydia's.

Derek had been Benjamin Buttoned.

**A/N: Thank you for the recent review and favorites. :) Hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know your thoughts or what you hope to see in the future. I'm catching up on my updates so hopefully they will be regular. Like twice a week. :) Thanks. R&R!**


	4. Chapter 4

A wet cacophony fell from the sky, every raindrop hitting Stiles' windshield like a hammer. If we were to stand out there, we would be wet from head to toe in instant.

_Almost there, _I reminded myself as I listened to the torrential downpour outside, _almost there._

Scott had already called Deaton, and he was awaiting our arrival.

We had taken two separate cars on the drive back. Stiles, Scott, a resting Derek and I in the jeep, Braeden, Lydia, Kira, and Malia in Braeden's van. She promised to drive them just before the border, for the sake of Derek, and Lydia, who had efficiently parked her car just before the border, would take over. She was going to drive Malia and Kira home, and she insisted that should would meet us at the vet's, refusing to go home.

I watched young Derek jolt in his sleep as his head lay on my lap. He was completely delirious when we first found him. He had no idea what was going on. We kept trying to ask him questions, but he had no idea who we were. Eventually he just freaked out, crumbling into a puddle of tears. We took him to the jeep and he fell asleep not long after, his head on my lap. I didn't move him. Normally I would've shied away unless it was Stiles, but this version of Derek was just a kid. He was scared. Frankly, I didn't want to him wake up either. I was tired. We all were. Stiles would need a good day to rest after all the driving. He and Scott only switched driving once during the trek, so Stiles could power nap.

During the drive back, Scott explained the details of Kate. He said she was some kind of Were-jaguar now, after being turned by Peter's claws. Knowing she was a new were-creature, who couldn't control the shift, we'd have to be careful of her now, keep an eye out.

He stirred once again in my lap, his lip quivering.

I hesitated, breathing in a large breath and holding it until he rested again. I froze in position, and when he finally went still, I relaxed, placing my hands on top of him again, sighing as I did so

The rest of the drive was quiet, due to half-asleep Stiles and a worried pack-member Scott.

When the jeep jolted to a halt, Scott and Stiles exited the vehicle accordingly, and Scott went around to the back of the jeep, opening up the trunk, pulling down the seats, and taking Derek from my arms. He lifted him over his shoulder and Stiles closed the trunk after him.

I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he wasn't my responsibility anymore. Well he was, I just meant that during the drive, he was kind of my responsibility. If he woke up, I wouldn't have known what to say to him.

I leapt out of the jeep and joined the boys as they entered the building. As expected, I got drenched on the way.

Lydia was waiting there already. She must have speeded to drop Kira and Malia home in time.

Scott hauled Derek into the back room, dumping him on the examination table. We all fixedly observed Deaton as he studied the boy.

"Wow." He was bug-eyed, his eyeballs practically bulging out of his head.

"'Wow?' as in 'Wow I've seen this before and know exactly what to do kind of wow?' because that's the kind of wow we're hoping for..." Stiles scratched his chin, hopeful of Deaton's knowledge.

"I think you might be over-estimating my abilities."

I watched as Lydia slipped her hand into Derek's. Her eyes flickered into a look of panic. "He's cold. Really cold." She peered up at Deaton.

"I'll go get blanket's from the jeep." I walked out of the building, without waiting for replies. I quickly grabbed two woolen blankets. They were dirty, and slightly damp, but they would do. They were warm.

I ran back into the room, my sneakers squeaking on the floor.

"So what do we do?" Stiles asked, his eyes flickering to me as I walked in.

I hugged the blankets around Derek, tucking them around his body as tightly as I could.

"Until he wakes up? Probably not much," Deaton shrugged. "It might be best to leave him with me. He'll be safe here."

"You mean from Kate?" Stiles asked.

"If she is alive, and she is what you say she is, she won't be able to walk past that gate." I had forgotten about Deaton's infamous mountain-ash gate at the front of his clinic.

"Why would she want to do this to him?" I asked, wrapping another blanket I found on a nearby chair around Derek's shoulders.

"Knowing Kate, it's probably for a reason that won't be good for anyone but her."

"It'll be bad for everyone else." Stiles deduced.

I smiled.

Instead of responding to Stiles, he ignored him. Stiles cranked his neck, stretching it out.

"You guy's should probably just go home." Deaton rubbed his cuffs. "He doesn't look to be in a any danger. So maybe the rest of you should get some sleep… it's a school night."

Shit, I had forgotten it was Sunday.

I blinked my eyes a few times, trying to keep them open as I leaned against the cold, steel, examination table.

"You all need to start taking care of your own lives, again." Deaton lectured.

"Someone should stay with him," Scott suggested.

I expected Scott to volunteer, you know pack mentality, wanting to be close to a wounded member and all, but to my surprise, Lydia raised her small hand, the other in Derek's. "I'll stay." She shrugged, "My grades are fine, despite missing a few classes."

"I am so not okay with this," Stiles exclaimed.

"Stiles…" Lydia moved her head up to him. "Go."

"Noooo." He smiled.

"Text us if anything happens," Scott said to Lydia.

"Still not okay with it," Stiles said. At first I thought it was for Lydia's safety he was saying that, but now I sensed he was worried about Derek. That he, himself, might actually prefer to stay there.

I wrapped my hand around Stiles' wrist, dragging him out of the building.

"Still not okay with it." He tried to plant his feet on the ground, but my strength overpowered his. Finally, he gave in, following my footsteps out the building. We sprinted to the jeep, our jackets slung over our heads for protection. I climbed into the backseat and watched as Stiles started the jeep, which thankfully still worked.

He drove to the McCall house, and waited for us to climb out of his idling jeep.

After Scott jumped out, I pushed the seat forward, ready to exit adequately.

Scott gave us some privacy and ran into the house, but not before saying goodbye and thanking his friend for driving.

I jumped into the front seat, and faced Stiles, grinning awkwardly.

He grinned back nodding to himself.

We were left with a few awkward moments of silence, not knowing what to say. I could cut the tension in the jeep with a knife.

"Well, I'll see you later— I guess." I smiled, moving my hair to one side.

"Oh, yeah! Yeah. See you tomorrow." He nodded again, his head bobbing up and down a little too excessively. I watched his thumbs drum against the steering wheel at the same thump of his rapid heartbeat. Despite his confident profile, I could tell from his heartbeat he was nervous in front of me. It was adorable.

"Well, um…" I reached an arm over to him, attempting to hug the fragile boy. He wrapped an arm around me and we awkwardly patted each other.

I grinned as I left his embrace.

He chuckled, ill at ease.

"See you tomorrow," I waved before shutting the jeep door.

He waved back, his jeep still idling in the driveway.

I walked up to the front door, placed my hand on the doorknob, ready to unlock, but glanced back at Stiles. His face was glued to his hand, and his head shook from side to side. I watched as he face-palmed himself and couldn't help but listen in. "God, Stiles, could you be more awkward?"

I sighed sullenly at his disappointment in himself. I should've done something, make the departure less awkward. My brain was fried and I just wanted to sleep, though.

I opened the door, slamming it close behind me. The house shook in response, and I jumped reveled by my own strength. There was a dripping noise to my left,and I saw a pan on the floor, collecting raindrops from a leak in the cieling. My lips pursed into a tight line. This place as falling apart.

It took me only two seconds to take my drenched clothes off and change into pajama bottoms and a tank top.

When my head hit the pillow, insomnia took over. I couldn't fall asleep, despite my fried brain and the lack of sleep this past weekend. I just felt like something wasn't right, like I wasn't ready to sleep yet.

I groaned, rolling over to try to seep into a more comfortable position.

This continued for the next ten minutes.

I felt so tired. My own body was mystified. I was worn-out, but couldn't sleep. That made no sense.

I glanced at my phone. It was 2:15am and I still couldn't sleep.

I felt the need to call Stiles. I wanted to hear his voice. But that was too selfish of me, to wake him up. He had been driving for so long.

An idea popped into my head, but I tried to push it back into the depths of my mind. It kept resurfacing, and finally after an eternity of debating, I settled on going for it. I grabbed my purse, packed with essentials like make up, pencils and stuff for school tomorrow, a textbook for history, some leggings, and a hairbrush.

I tossed the purse over my shoulder, but some sneakers on, and crept out my window, hopefully being unseen by Scott or Melissa. It was Scott I worried about most of all. But after the events that had occurred today, I assumed he was asleep, owed to exhaustion.

After closing the window, I faced the darkness. It was pitch black and still pouring rain. I groaned in frustration, but if I ran fast enough I could avoid most of it if I took the path through the forest.

I braced myself for the cold rain, and sprinted as fast as I could across the street, through the forest, out on to the main road and j-walked to Stiles' house.

I slowed to a walk when I reached the side of the house, beside the big maple tree. His light in his room was predictably off.

I felt bad waking him up, now. I don't know what I had expected. Maybe for his light to be on, me to climb up to his window, explain my reason for coming over so late, and then we'd fall asleep or something. I don't know.

I was already here, though, so I grabbed a few pebbles from the asphalt path beside me and starting throwing them at his window. It was hard to control this strength. I had to use the tiniest, modest amount of arm strength as possible, but not too little.

When his dim bedside light flickered on, I almost felt my frozen heart stutter. I felt like fleeing right there and then. Too late now. I dropped the remainder of the pebbles and waited.

I saw him unlock the latch and slide the window up. He peeked his head out, fisting his eyes due to exhaustion.

"Anna?" His voice croaked, still rubbing his eyes.

"Can I come up?" I asked, tapping my feet.

"U-Up here?" He dropped his hands, "L-Like in my room?"

I rolled my eyes with a smile, but then I realized it was too dark for him to see me. "Yes, Stiles."

"Sure, then." He shoved the rest of the window up, making room for me to jump in. I threw my purse up first, which he thankfully caught, and then I climbed the tree. The branches were so thin I was afraid it would snap with my weight on it.

I got as far as I could on the sturdiest branch, and then took a giant dive into his room, somersaulting onto the floor as discretely as possible.

He shut the window and set my purse down. He was dressed only in a tight black shirt and pajama pants.

"How come you're here?" He yawned, "I mean, not that I'm not happy to see you, I'm just so tired I can't even understand what's going on."

"I know, I'm sorry I just can't sleep." I smiled at his wild hair. It was all over his head, like some crazy tornado had targeted just him.

"Ah." He nodded. His feet wobbled and I watched his body sway. He looked so tired, but I had seen worse during his nogitsune-possesion. His eyes were heavy, lids almost closing as he stood in front of me.

"I'm sorry," I scratched my head, "I shouldn't have come."

"No!" He took a step towards me, "No, it's okay." Surprisingly, he wrapped his two muscular arms around me. "Damn, I'm tired." He mumbled into my shoulder.

I giggled. I could feel his warm breathing on my neck. If I wasn't holding up with my strength, he'd probably collapse right in front of me. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

He stirred in my arms, planting his feet firmly on the ground "I'm too tired."

I chuckled again, towing his heavy body to his bed in the corner of his room.

He sat on it, reluctantly, and just stared up at me with his bloodshot eyes.

"I'm gonna go, I'm sorry for waking you," I smiled, brushing his disastrous hair back.

He shook his head a little too excessively, like a dog. "Uh-uh. Just stay here." He fell back on the bed, positioning himself so his head was on the pillow.

"Stiles I—"

"Lie down." He ordered with his eyes already closed. He patted the bed.

"Yes sir," I smiled, moving to the side of the bed. I planted my butt on it, lying down. I stared at the ceiling above me, making intricate patterns with my mind with the textures of the wall.

In my peripheral, I saw his chest rise and fall. I was almost certain he was asleep, until his body rotated away from me.

Restlessness got the best of him and a few seconds later, he rotated back.

I turned to look at his face, and his eyes were no longer closed. He just stared at my side. I twirled my hair in my fingers, waiting for him to say something.

"I'm sorry," He apologized, "I can't sleep unless I'm in the middle of the bed."

"Oh." I blinked, "I can move on the floor."

"No," he sat himself up, "Maybe you could just—" He placed his hands on my shoulders, moving me a little closer to the edge of the bed, "And then I'll—" He scooted himself closer to me. I just beamed at him as he tried to figure out our sleeping arrangements. He was so mesmerizing. I could watch him for hours.

He did a double take when he saw my smile, and a small one rose to his lips as he tucked the blanket closer to him.

A nostalgic feeling had indulged itself upon me. I rested my head on the pillow, facing Stiles. Our faces were so close, our noses almost touching.

His hand lifted to caress my cheek, with that quirky smile of his. He lifted my chin, up, just a tad, and removed the gap between us, pressing our lips together. It was just like the first time we kissed, and the second time. This feeling of nostalgia never faded.

An explosion of total peace and serenity overwhelmed us both as his top lip clung to my bottom. At first, he kissed me so gently, like he was afraid to hurt me, but then the kisses quickened, along with the beating of his heart. Dizzy with excitement, I decided to try something different. I quickly (using my speed) placed myself on top of Stiles, straddling him.

Our kisses were heated, passionate, one after another. From the pressure of his hands on my back, I could tell he was just as nervous as I was. He flipped me over gently, and started to kiss the corner of my lips. His lips trailed to my jaw, leaving traces of kisses from my ear to my collar bone.

My breathing was deep, shallow, due to lack of breath. The dimness of light in the room emphasized the features in his back muscles.

His lips were so warm against my skin, they scorched it.

I tried to catch my breath, but it seemed near impossible. The aggressive side of me took over, and I tossed him back over, me on top again. He was startled by my action, but enjoyed it. I started to kiss his jaw line, now, leaving small imprints of my lips behind. I could feel the blood pumping through his thin skin, the thumping of it echoed through my ears.

Knowingly going too far, I kissed his neck. The lust was too much, I couldn't help it. He was too tempting.

I lifted my head up, panting, when I felt my eyes flare red.

"It's okay," He reassured, pushing my head back, "It's okay…"

He didn't have to say it again. I felt my teeth extend out of my mouth, and I gently bit into the first layer of skin. I wasn't even that hungry, it was just the lure of him, the appeal. It felt so right.

Instead of wincing at the pinch, he groaned, and not in pain, more like arousal.

Every now and again, my lips would trail down his neck, kissing him more.

The only sound was his blood pumping and our heavy breaths.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair with one of his free hands, the other trapped underneath me. He sucked in a deep breath, and flipped us around once again. A pile of sheets off the bed fell to the floor.

I wiped my face with my sleeve and raised my arms above my head, exposing my armpits. He pinned them down with his muscular hands and crushed his lips against mine again.

He grew eager with every kiss, and so did I. My hands dug into his back, so deeply that I heard the tear of fabric. I could feel the immediate smile on his lips. Instead of letting me apologize, he kissed me over and over again. The lustful desire of every touch was an amorous sensation. I gripped his now sweat-ridden back.

I latched to his bottom lip, so tightly that I felt him wince when the lip split in my mouth.

"I'm sorry!" a hand flew to my mouth. "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to do that."

"It's alright," He chuckled, moving his lips back to the corner of my lips.

Something aggressive took over me, my animal instinct. I felt like I couldn't control myself anymore. I pushed him off of me and onto the bed beside me. I ripped the remainder of his shirt off and started kissing his chest, his waist, his back, his shoulder. Not only kissing, but biting, scratching, gripping. He was covered in his own blood and sweat, but he didn't mind.

We moved so quickly, no human could see us. I hadn't thought about how dizzy he must have been from this experience, tossing and turning, and flipping. I finally resumed to normal pace, just kissing his lips now, as I pressed one had in the middle of his bare, bloody, chest. I could feel the triumphant smile underneath his lips.

I started grinning as well. I felt my face go back to normal as I lay my head back on the pillow, both of us chuckling as we stared at the ceiling.

We were silent, just smiling like idiots for a little while.

"Shit, its 3:23am."

My eyes widened at the alarm clock beside Stiles. "Woah."

"School in four and a half hours."

"Mhm," I nodded.

I heard him yawn beside me, and reposition himself so he was more in the middle of the bed. His butt backed into my side, and I moved a little, so he could feel comfortable in his own bed.

I felt the exhaustion–from both lack of sleep and what had just occurred— and I shut my eyes.

Weariness overwhelmed my body, and I felt my consciousness ebb away.

* * *

I groaned at the blaring bleeping of Stiles' alarm clock.

He sighed, his arm reaching over to the table. He slammed his hand down and the clock, and breathed a weary breath out.

I had almost forgotten I was with Stiles, if it weren't for the breathing body next to me. He smiled at me rubbing sleep from his eyes.

I smiled back, and used my agile speed to fly to my purse, grab my belongings, run to the washroom before the Sherriff woke up, and get dressed.

"Shit," I cursed, I had forgotten a shirt. I only brought pants and sneakers. I groaned, walking back at a normal pace back to Stiles.

"No shirt?" he asked, using his hands to gel up his hair in the small mirror on his desk.

I shook my head, my hair falling in neat curls.

"Here," he moved past me and grabbed a red sweater. He tossed it, and I caught it. It was his lacrosse sweater. The one that had his last name on it with the number 24.

"Thanks," I smiled, pulling it on over my pajama tank top.

He smiled, and went back to neatly pushing back his hair.

I watched as his back muscles moved with every arm movement. I glanced at the bite marks and scratches over him. It didn't seem that heated last night, but now looking at him, it appeared as if he got attacked. There was a bite mark on his neck, which a hoodie could likely cover it. There was one on his back shoulder, one on his right side, a bruise or two, and there was another blood-crusted bite on his left side, closer to his hip.

"Boy, I got you good," I grimaced, rushing over to him and grazing the bite mark on his upper shoulder with the pads of my fingers.

He shrugged, grinning like an idiot as he turned around.

I beamed up at him as we finished getting ready. After cleaning up some of his bite marks with a clean cloth and hot water, we headed out. I got to Stiles' jeep without the Sherriff noticing and waited for Stiles as he said a quick goodbye to his father.

We drove to school, mostly in silence except to talk about music that was playing. When we got there, he parked his jeep in the back and we climbed out.

I noticed Scott walking by, and he wiggled his eyebrows at us, nodding at Stiles.

I rolled my eyes and giggled, "Go," I smiled, "I'm gonna wait for Malia."

He nodded, grinning. He patted my shoulder and said, "I'll meet you after school."

I smiled at him, as if to say sure.

He gripped my shoulder tightly before walking off, beaming at his best friend.

They walked up the stairs to the south entrance of the school. Of course Scott would ask questions, and of course I had to listen in to see what Stiles would say.

I heard there footsteps on the stairs, and watched as Stiles reached the final step of the first flight, turning back to his best friend who followed closely behind.

"Alright, so it's like two in the morning, and I wake up and she's just outside, standing there in the rain. So of course, I just let her sneak in."

"And then what happened?"

"This," He probably thought I couldn't see, for they made the top step of the seconds stairs, but I could still just see them in view. Stiles scanned around him quickly, making sure no one saw, and then lifted the back of his sweatshirt up, revealing a few of the bite marks.

I couldn't see my cousin's face, but I had a pretty good idea of what it looked like. Wide eyes, mouth agape, maybe a little eyebrow wiggle.

"Holy…" I heard Scott breath.

"Yeah. Right on, right? After that we spent the rest of the night—"

My phone ringing interrupted my eavesdropping. At first, I thought It was Stiles' or Scott, but when I didn't see them react, I looked at mine.

It was an unknown number.

I leaned my backside against the jeep and pressed the bright green button.

"Hello?"

"Hell, this is officer Gilmore. May I speak to Anna Miller?"

"Speaking," I replied in a questioning tone.

"We have some news for you; you may want to sit down for this."

"W-What is it?" I had never heard of officer Gilmore, so they definetly weren't from around here.

"I'm from the Washington Policed Department. We received a call from a Darrell Young last night about a car accident."

_Oh God. _That was my mom's boyfriend.

I could feel my knees tremble beneath me and I looked back up the flights of stairs, to see if Stiles and Scott were there. They were. I assumed Scott heard me on the phone and paused, waiting to see what it said while still in ears-reach.

Their looks were discerning and confused.

"I'm sorry to tell you this—"

"No…" I breathed, my eyes brimming with tears.

Scott and Stiles were sprinting back down the stairs towards me now.

"Your mother was in a car accident last night. A drunk driver hit her head on. She was transferred via helicopter straight to the hospital but succumbed to her wombs. I'm very sorr—"

The phone fell out of my weak hands.

For once, since I became a vampire, I felt weak.

I felt like I couldn't hold my own body weight up.

My knees gave out, and I collapsed onto the cold, cement floor. I felt Stiles' arms hook underneath my armpits, but I didn't react.

"NO." I sobbed. "NO NO No no…!"

The tears sprung from my eyes like a loose faucet. I just kept crying and crying.

"Please no…" I moaned, wailing to whoever could hear me. Stiles managed to pick up my lifeless body and encompass himself around me. Instead of saying anything, he just held me so closely to his body that I felt crushed. I couldn't find a place to put my arms so they just lay lifeless around Stiles' neck, my hands clenching and unclenching.

All of the stressful tears I seemed to hold in the last few weeks erupted into one giant emotion, which was grief and loss.

I cried in Stiles' arms for what seemed like an eternity. My cousin yelled comforting words at me, but it was like I couldn't hear him. Like my hearing didn't work. I was momentarily deaf. I ignored the looks from classmates and buried my face into Stiles' chest.

The only thoughts that ran through my head at the moment were: Why her? Did she know I loved her still? I hadn't called her in a week or two, what were my last words to her? I will never see my mother again.

_I will __**never **see my mother again._

The tears never stopped coming. The rest of the day was a blur of fears and tears. I couldn't really comprehend what happened, I just recalled Scott driving Stiles jeep, was stiles cradled me in the backseat as we drove home to meet my uncle.

I remember this one memory of my mom and I when I was little. We went to the beach, and it was probably the best memory I had of her. It was the last day of summer and she bought me a birthday cake flavored scoop of ice cream, in a cone of course. We spent dawn until dusk at the beach, that day. We played in the water, made sandcastles, and giggled like there was no tomorrow.

I would _never _see her again.

I actually felt physical pain inside of me. Like someone repeatedly stabbed me over and over, but even that would be less painful then what I was enduring in right now.

I just wanted to see my mom one last time.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for the reviews and reading! Let me know your thoughts :) Sorry about the short length of this chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

Allison's death was a blur of affliction and tears. Two months later, so is my mother's funeral.

My uncle had driven us to the airport the following morning. Our flight was scheduled at 6:00am the next day, prepping for the funeral at 2:00pm.

We packed light, knowing we'd come back two days later. Melissa and Scott wanted to attend the funeral, but they just couldn't afford to miss school and work, which I understood.

I had over-filled myself with drinking blood before I got on the plane, knowing it would be hot and stuffy and close quartered. My uncle and I hardly spoke, unless it was reminiscing on my mother. He told me what she was like as a kid, he told me I reminded her of her. Of course he would say that, though. Every kid reminds someone of their parent. Its genes. Of course we were alike.

Previously, I wanted nothing to do with my uncle. But the next few days, including the funeral, he was exceedingly kind towards me.

Funeral's are not a healthy way to say goodbye to someone.

I had attended two in the last few weeks which starred my best friend and mother, and frankly, that was just sick.

Something I had learned over the course of my life so far is that the world is cruel. But the world doesn't care. It doesn't care about your petty little problems, its life.

I had this immense guilt filled inside of me due to my departure the past months. I almost wished I had never come to Beacon Hills. Maybe if I still lived with my mom, maybe it would be me instead of her.

I just hope she knew how much I loved her.

It was a beautifully devastating service. There were flowers everywhere, dust in the thin air, chairs facing the casket, old friends of my mom's, relatives I hadn't seen in years, or even heard of for that matter. Maybe I had never met them, never the less, they smelt of mothballs and they're there.

I never looked at my mother when she lay in that cleaner-scented casket. I couldn't. Everyone might have thought I was being disrespectful. But I just couldn't bring myself to look at my mother like that. I didn't want the last image of her in my mind of her being dressed beautifully in a casket while her body rotted.

It was disgusting.

I trained myself to nod and smile through the pain when I was repeatedly asked, "Are you okay?" from people I hardly knew.

I mildly cried during the funeral, and that was mostly from seeing my uncle tear up as he saw his dead sister.

Do you know what I find weird? The fact that we know our parents our whole life, but they only know us for half of theirs. My uncle, on the other hand, grew up with my mother. He woke up to her face every day, argued frequently like siblings are expected too, attended each other's weddings, was there in the waiting room when I was born, and called her on every celebratory occasion.

Yet, I still didn't feel like crying. It wasn't until I really felt like crying when I saw a familiar mop of brownish-grayish hair lurking in the back of the small crowd, formally dressed in black. The hollow feeling in my chest seemed to grow when he faced towards us.

The last time I saw this man was when I was six years old. The last image I had of him was his back as he walked out of my life.

_He pushed through the grieving crowd and found his way to me. My uncle, knowingly aware of my father, stood in front of me protectively, which I almost laughed at. Because I, no doubt, was implausibly stronger then my uncle._

_"Anna." He nodded at me, scratching the back of his head._

_His eyes darted between my uncle and me._

_"Darrell." I nodded back, knowing that if I said his actually name it would infuriate him, just like he had infuriated my mom and I when he ditched._

_"I-uh, I came to get you." He looked different since the last time I had seen him. His crooked nose was still the same from when he broke it slipping on our hardwood floors, even after my mother told him that she had just mopped. His hair was grayer, his eyes were still a poignant blue, and his lips were poised into a tightly shut line._

_"What do you mean came to get me?" I glared up at Darrell. I refused to call this man my father. The only fatherly figure I had in my life been my mom. My mom and Melissa._

_"I'm your father, Anna. I came to bring you back to New York with me."_

_"I'm not going anywhere with you," I spat, my eyes drilled into Darrell's._

_My furious tone got the attention of passer by's and an old great uncle, I think, asked if everything was okay. _

_Once I assure him the situation was under control, and that I was fine, he left._

_"Anna, I'm your father."_

_"What?"_

_"I'm your fath—"_

_"Excuse me?"I raised my voice. "You? MY father? I haven't seen you since I was six!"_

_He was definitely shocked by my outrage. The last time I talked to him (Which was a year ago around my birthday) I was the polite little daughter he thought I was. But I was standing up for myself now._

_"Things are different now..." He went to touch my forearm, but I slapped his hand away with such force, that he winced in pain, shaking his arm to get the blood flowing again._

_"Don't you dare touch me."_

_"Don't speak to me like that, Anna. I am your—"_

_"Bullshit!" I shrieked in his face, "Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit! Bullshit you're my father. Melissa was more of a father than you. I don't want anything to do with you," I abused with the rueful tears, "You're just some dude who gave me brown hair and blue eyes. That's it. It took my mother dying for you to pay attention to me? It took her getting into a car accident for you to finally meet me in person after eleven fucking years, Dad. Eleven."_

_I felt my eyes just begin to burn a familiar red color, so to hide up the rage I was feeling, and me almost ready to tear my father's throat out I pretended to cry into my uncle's shoulder, but really, I was just trying to conceal the fact that I **literally **almost murdered my father in a cemetery._

_"Where are you going to go then?"_

_I whipped back towards my father with brooding eyes. "Not with you."_

_When the awkward tension lifted in the air, my uncle further clarified. "She's living with Melissa still."_

_"Still?" He questioned._

_"She's been living there for a while now. You weren't aware?"_

_"Of course he's not aware!" I screamed, "He doesn't care." I told my uncle._

_His eyes locked with mine, "You need to calm down." He placed his hands on my shoulders, but I shook them off._

_"Melissa has agreed to adopt her, as long as you sign that she is allegeable for it. She will receive some of the money Miranda (My mom) left in the will, and the rest will go towards Anna's college fund."_

_I was actually excited for Melissa to sign the adoption papers, I wanted nothing to do with the man in front of me._

_"I'm not signing that. I refuse."_

_But of course, my father ruined my life for the second time._

_"Please, Dad."_

_He shook his head, tears brimming the lids of his eyes._

_"Dad," I begged, "If you have ever cared about me. Do this for me. Please I want to be with Melissa. You won't have to pay child support anymore; you won't have to worry about calling me, or feeling guilty. Please, just sign the papers. I can't leave Beacon Hills. I have a real life there, Dad. I have friends, I have family, I have a future there. Please, don't take that away from me."_

_I watched a tear fall from his cheek as he stood there in silence. It slowly fell down his cheek, picking up speed before it finally collected and fell from his cheek bone to his polished black shoes._

_Maybe I was being mean, but wouldn't you if you hadn't seen your father in eleven years?_

_"Okay…" He whispered, so leisurely and quietly that I almost didn't pick it up. "Okay." He nodded._

_For the first and last time in my life, I took a large leap towards my father, and wrapped my arms around him._

_There were no last words, there were no "I love you's" exchanged, there was no goodbye. This was a man who gave me my genes. This was a stranger to me, who I happened to look slightly alike because he was biologically related to me. In no way was he family and he was fully aware of that._

I spent the next day packing up old belongings from my Mom's house, which I managed to squeeze the most important sentiments into my uncle and I's suitcase. I spent a night in a hotel with my uncle. Stiles had called me, informing me that Derek was back to normal. Kate had freaky minions walking around with her now. They were called Berserkers. They were men who wore the skins and carcasses of animals. They basically become an animal, the human side no longer existing. They become one. They are dangerous, and basically un-killable. Its strength exceedingly surpasses that of a werewolf or vampire. Apparently there was a vault underneath the school, which no one was aware of, that the Hale's used to hide important things, such as 117 million dollars. Which was stolen. It belonged to Peter and he said that he was poisoned with wolfsbane, that they stole it when he was blinded

No one knows who the mysterious Hale vault-robberer was, but we all knew it wasn't good. It added to the list of stressful topics in Beacon Hills.

The next day, we took our five hour flight home. Stiles picked me up, while my uncle took his own means of transportation home. He didn't talk to me, just hugged me. Which was all I needed right now.

When we got back to my house, I greeted my Aunt and cousin, and then changed into my pajamas and jumped into my bad, surrounded myself in the comfort of my own blankets. Stiles stayed for an hour or two, letting me sob into his chest.

Stiles understood what it felt like, having lost his mother when he was young.

"She was supposed to live." I cried, "She was supposed to watch me graduate. She was supposed to walk me down the aisle as I get married. She was supposed to watch me go to college, live my life."

"I know," Stiles said, massaging my back with one of his strong hands. "Shh…"

We stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Just in deafening silence, despite my whimpers.

I fell asleep like that, and part of me wised I wouldn't wake up.

* * *

I had this ability, as a vampire, to compartmentalize my emotions. I pushed them back until they would resurface, more powerful and emotional than ever. I knew it would pain me in the long run, but I just had to drown the emotions tied down to me.

As I got ready for school the next, I dressed nicely in a tribal print dress, with sneakers, and a black beanie to put over my bed-head hair. After applying light make-up, I headed to school.

The whole student body's eyes were pinned on me as I burst through the school's front doors, heading to Stiles' locker. I occasionally received the "how are you doing?" or "are you okay?" Like I had trained myself to do, I replied with "I'm fine, thank you." tossing it with a small smile.

Most of the time, as I wandered the hallways, I kept my head hung low, refusing any confrontation with teachers or student's I hardly knew but pretended to care.

I even received a genuine smile from coach, at one point.

The only person, who didn't ask me if I was okay, was Stiles. I think that was because he knew me best. He knew that I wasn't okay. He didn't need to ask. He tried to distract me from passive thoughts as much as possible.

The day went by swiftly; I attended all my classes, ignored stares from classmates, ate lunch with the pack, and even laughed for a minute or two.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" I asked Stiles, holding his lacrosse stick as he fiddled with his lacrosse bag.

"Euh," He groaned, pulling out a helmet that hardly fit in his locker. His tongue lolled out. "Lacrosse, you coming to watch?"

"Got nothing better to do," I replied as he shut his locker.

"You better come watch."

I tossed a smile at him, "I will," We wandered the halls until we found Scott, and then stepped outside into the cold air, heading towards the field.

"So, do you think I'm still allowed to play?" Scott turned to Stiles, who was having a hard time keeping his lacrosse bag on his shoulder, "Like, do you think I'm still captain?"

"Of course you're still the team captain." He stighed, smacking Scott's chest, "You got your grades up just like coach told you to, right?"

My cousin nodded. "Yeah, but he never told me I was back on the team. He just told me to show up for tryouts."

"Well, we got bigger things to deal with." Stiles started, squeezing through the bleachers and making his way to the bench. "Did you tell Argent yet?"

"About Kate and the berserkers? And the money?" I asked, eyeing the boys.

"Uh, I texted him but he didn't get back to me." He sighed through his nostrils.

Stiles blinked. "You told him his sister, Kate, came back from the dead over text?"

I scoffed a laugh.

"I didn't have the money to call France." Scott shrugged.

"Yeah, you think you got money problems, try paying for an MRI and a visit to the Eichen house." Stiles replied.

It hurt me to see the boys talk about money problems. It almost made me feel like I shouldn't be in Beacon Hills, shouldn't put that burden on Melissa. Something told me she wouldn't let me leave though.

I bit my bottom lip.

"Another notice?" Scott asked.

Stiles nodded, "Yeah, this one said 'final'"

"What the hell are you guys even doing here anyway?" I nudged them with my elbows, "We've got like a hundred and seventeen million problems and you're status on the lacrosse team shouldn't be one on them. No offense, but I think it's the least of your worries if you don't make the team, Scott."

Scott's eyes weren't on me. He shuffled his body slightly to the right to peer over my shoulder.

"It is now."

Stiles and I followed his gaze to observe a small freshman boy in net. He was catching literally every ball the other freshman and sophomore threw at him. His senses were impeccable. Almost too perfect. I narrowed my eyes at him, frowning.

Stiles head whipped to us, and back the freshman. "Who the hell is that!?"

As if on cue, the boy curled his fingers underneath the helmet and lifted it off of his sweaty head.

He was adorable, really. His eyes were a bright shade of tiffany blue, his smile was that of a little boy's and his light brown hair was gelled wildly, reminding me of Stiles'.

"Nice Liam!" the blonde-haired pounded Liam's fist. "You just might be our first ever freshman captain."

Liam beamed at his friend, and turned around to great another player that praised him.

"Maybe we should just practice a little bit…"

I snorted as Stiles jogged onto the field, almost tripping over his own feet, as usual.

"Good luck," I smiled at Scott, who had a panic riden face, before climbing onto the top bleacher step, sitting down beside another freshman boy. I ahd no idea who he was, but he sat alone so I decided to join him. Frankly, I didn't want to sit with Malia and Kria who would bombard me with the usual questions I had received today.

The African-American, doe-eyed boy smiled politely up at me.

I smiled back, taking out a back to study over some math notes.

Sitting one step above him, I observed him pull out a math book as well. He wrote his name on the top of a worksheet nearby. 'Mason'.

Well, Mason just became my new little freshman friend.

The practice went pretty slow. Lim continued to dominate the field, and I occasionally heard the boy in front of me cheer for him every now and again.

"You know him?" I asked, tapping Mason on the shoulder.

He peered up at me, nodding, "My best friend. Transferred from Devenford Prep."

I nodded, moving a step down to sit beside Mason. "He's pretty good," I pointed out.

"Insanely" He nodded eyes on Liam. "He's been practicing with his step-father for the past month."

"Lacrosse is that important to him?"

"I guess so," He shrugged.

I watched him catch every shot, the only shot he missed was one he wasn't paying attention to, due to coach calling his name.

He was impressive.

When practice was over, I departed from my new friend and followed Scott and Stiles off the field.

I watched as Stiles not-so-discretely changed his shirt in front of the boys heading to the locker room. I smacked his side. Even with the under-shirt, you could still see some of the bite marks that were healing from a few days ago.

He shrugged, laughing, as Scott just wiggled his eyebrows.

When we made it to the locker rooms, I waited outside. Unusually, Stiles tried to pull me in.

"Stiles," I hesitated, "I'm not going in there."

"Come on," He tugged, "Coach isn't in there. Just a few boys. No one will care. I just want to talk to Liam for a sec."

"And why do I have to go in there?" I arched a brow.

"Have you seen you? You're a junior. You're female. You're intimidating."

"I'm not going in there."

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head and tugging at my arm.

But I stood my grounds, crossing my arms over my chest. When he tried to tow me again, I narrowed my eyes at him, flashing them red.

"Ha!" He scoffed, "You think that's going to scare me?" He pulled my arm once more, and I gave in.

A few boys stuttered or screamed at my appearance, but for the most part they ignored it.

I followed Scott and Stiles down a row of lockers where the MVP of practice was pulling a white v-neck over his torso.

He was bug-eyed at my appearance, not knowing what to say.

"Hey," Stiles nodded to him, a peculiar look on his face. "Liam, you want to explain what that was out there?"

Scott cornered Liam on the other side.

His blue eyes darted from Stiles, myself, and then to Scott. "W-What do you mean?"

"That little display there— That circus act." Stiles raised his voice, crossing his arms over his chest.

I tried to hide my laughter at Stiles' actions.

"What circus act?" The boy questioned again.

Stiles started laughing, and raised his hands in the air. "You caught every shot…" He pointed to him, curling his lips over his teeth.

"I was in goal…"

"Yeah! But nothing— Not a single shot— got past you!"

"Yeah, I was the goalie." He furrowed his brow, clearly getting infuriated by Stiles' lecture. "You guys ever play this game before?"

I rolled my eyes and took as step towards Liam, butting in. "I think what they're trying to say is—"

"Uh-uh-uh…" Stiles put a hand on my chest, pushing me back.

I frowned, and gripped his arm tightly, using a mild amount of my strength on him to twist his arm back.

"Argh! Ah. Okay…" He released his hand from my grip and shook it, trying to regain feeling back in it. He licked his bottom lip, slightly shaking head at me.

I smiled triumphantly up at him.

"You're a freshman, right?" Scott asked after observing Stiles' and I display.

"Yeah."

"But you weren't here last semester…" Stiles added.

"He transferred from Devenford Prep." I intercepted.

Liam, as well as Scott and Stiles, seemed genuinely surprised by my answering.

"How do you know that?" Stiles' bottom lip jutted out and he narrowed his brown eyes at me.

I just smirked, attempting to contain my laughter.

"Yeah, how do you know that?" Liam pointed at me, "Better yet, what are you doing in the boy's locker room?" He glanced around him.

Stiles gazed down at me immediately at the mentioning of 'locker room' and I smacked the top of his head. "You said no one would care," I mumbled under my breath, crossing my arms over my chest as I averted my eyes from him.

I saw him roll his eyes in my peripheral.

"So you transferred from Devenford Prep?" Scott continued.

"Yep." Liam replied, popping the 'p'. "I transferred."

"Woah," I lifted a hand in the air, "Hold on. You transferred?"

I heard the sound of his heartbeat pick up, rapidly pacing at the word 'transferred'.

"Yeah." He licked his lips. I heard his heart stutter once again. He was nervous. He was also lieing.

Stiles lifted his hand in the in a questioning position, trying to mouth something to Scott and I while I continued to listen to Liam's heartbeat. I ignored him.

"No. You got kicked out, didn't you?" Scott's lip formed a tight line on his face.

His tiny face slackened as his thick brows drew together in confusion. His eyes darted in concern, as if he was trying to escape the situation. I heard his heartbeat pace faster and faster, thumping against his chest.

I felt pity for him, so I tugged Scott and Stiles' shirt. "Come on guys, let's just go—"

Stiles held up a hand for me to stop talking.

"Alright, kicked out, transferred… Why do you guys care?" He spat, "I came here to play lacrosse."

Stiles sighed, rubbing his chin with the pads of his fingers.

"Your team needs a few players, right?"

"No no!" Stiles hand made a slashing gesture, "We don't need anymore."

"Actually we could sort of use a couple…" Scott shot at Stiles.

I leaned towards Liam, "We could use a lot of good players," I whispered.

He smirked as Stiles, once again, smacked me in the chest.

Stiles bit his lip, glaring at Scott before turning back to Liam. He leaned against one of the lockers, "Alright. How'd you get this good?" He paused, "Have you always been this good? Or did it just suddenly happen? Like just once overnight. Okay, okay, how about this. Have you ever been out in the middle of the woods in the night of a full moon—"

"Stiles," Scott and I warned in unison.

"Hm…" Stiles scratched the back of his neck, curling and uncurling his lips over his teeth.

"Look," Liam clarified, "I learned from my step father. Alright? He made team captain as a sophomore. Like you," He pointed at Scott with a genuine smile.

"And yeah…" He turned back to his locker, grabbing his goalie stick and his nike bag. He pressed his chest to Stiles' and smiled, "Guess I'm just that good," and walked off in conquest.

I burst into a fit of laughter, clutching my stomach to attempt to contain myself. Scott smirked, nudging Stiles and I with his arm, "He wasn't lieing that time."

"It's true," I giggled, "Not one stutter." I explained about his heartbeat.

Stiles just groaned, with an eye roll, and stomped out of the boy's locker room throwing a fit.

* * *

The next day seemed excruciatingly long. I moped some more in the morning, taking advantage of my free block. I slept in as late as possible and then got ready dressed nicely in a flowy purple tank top, black jeans, some pumps, and a pretty necklace Argent had gave me that belonged to Allison.

I clutched the necklace, closing my eyes as I thought about my best friend.

I attended History, Econ, Biology, and Math. Malia had some trouble with it, but with Lydia's knowledge and my superb note taking schools, she got the hang of it. Sort of…

When the second phase of tryouts started after school, I practically bolted to the field, sitting by Mason like last time.

He smiled at me, and we chatted for the first few minutes of practice about things happening in the school.

"Think Liam's going to be captain?" I asked him, nudging him out of his trance on his History textbook.

"I hope so." He nodded, "He deserves it."

"Well it's an open tryout, all positions available. He has a good chance."

"Yeah."

I peered over at Malia, who was focused on Math, and Kira, who folded her hands together in anticipation at Scott.

I followed her gaze and watched as Scott and Stiles ran laps along with the other kids around the field.

Coach crossed his arms over his chest, observing the players as they ran there last lap. I recognized some. Garret ran by, Greenberg, Thomas, Scott, "Pathetic. Extremely pathetic. Unbelievably pathetic." He sighed, "Okay, is that everyone?" And finally, Stiles ran by him, panting and leaning his hands on his knees, his tongue lolling out as sweat dripped down his pale forehead. He fell to the ground due to lack of oxygen, and gripped the green turf with his hands in an attempt to catch his breath.

"Oh God…" I giggled, face palming myself.

"You know him?" Mason observed.

"Sadly, yes." I sighed. "I know him _extremely _well."

Mason snorted, smiling at me as he wiggled his brows up and down a few times.

"What? Oh… No I didn't mean…"

He laughed.

"Don't test me, freshman." I smiled nudging him with my shoulder.

He turned his attention back to his book and I turned mine back to the field.

Practice went as expected. Scott played fair, not using wolf powers, which I kind of hoped he would just a little…. You know, give those players a taste of what he was really like. Stiles failed miserably, but he never stopped trying which was admirable. Liam powned the whole field, and the blonde from the other day, Garrett, threw smash talk at Scott and Stiles. But Stiles… Lovely, hilarious, sarcastic Stiles, shot back a "Shut up Garrett," When he had taken things too far.

Stiles also threw the occasional glare at Liam, who retorted with a smirk, which I had to admit was hilarious.

To my surprise, Liam just wasn't good in goal; he was amazing on field too. Every position, mid, out, front, he was amazing at all of it. It even made me question if he was human or not.

I watched as Liam made an impeccable shot, almost impossible, and the crowd cheered for him, including the players on the field too. I glanced back to Scott and Stiles. Stiles was obviously just finishing up lecturing Scott on why he should use his wolf power because he 'hates seeing a freshman steal his glory after he worked his tooshie off'.

I watched as Scott's eyes flashed red in anger at the freshman and I instantly filled with panic. This wasn't going to end well, I could feel it. I had a very perceptive eye for bad happenings.

Coach blew his whistle, barking orders at the team. "Stilinski! McCall! You're on defense."

"Come on…" I clutched my necklace in my hands and bounced my knee up and down.

Greenberg moved to net, Scott and Stiles took their positions in front of him, and Garrett, which I now had a new found hate for, planted his feet firmly on the ground, bracing himself to maneuver around the boys.

When Garrett sprinted towards them, I was surprised to see Stiles not avoid him. In fact, he moved towards him. Almost appearing like he was going to tackle Garrett, but then Scott slashed Garrett's stick in an allowable move, and Garrett was left unable to make the shot.

"That's my boys!" Coach cheered, fists in the air like some John Hughes film.

I smiled, whispering, "Yes" to myself in triumph.

"Those two are like sons to me," coach explained to number 13 on the team, grabbing his helmet cage.

I laughed, cheering as the boys stopped player after player. They basically made it through the whole line, stopping everybody and taking little too long to cheer after each player. It was adorable.

When Liam made the front of the line, I heard both Scott and Stiles' heartbeat stutter in fear.

I bit my lip, leaning forward in the bleacher as I watched the next play.

Liam grinded his cleats in to the turf, preparing himself, and then took off sprinting. As if it was the simplest thing on earth, Liam dodged Stiles, and sadly after that, he slipped past Scott and shot the ball into the net, scoring once again.

I heard Mason cheer beside me, and I even gave a small clap when Stiles and Scott didn't notice, just to show support.

"DO OVER."

My head whipped to Malia, who was shouting at coach and cupping her hands around her mouth.

Although I heard Stiles whisper "Malia please don't get involved…" to himself, I stood up and chanted with Malia.

"Yeah!" I stood up. "Redo!"

"This is practice!" Coach chuckled, turning back to the team to bark more orders.

"Ten bucks on Scott and Stiles." Malia offered.

Coach pivoted, pointing at Malia and winking, "I'll take that action."

Malia smiled and sent me a thumbs up. I sent one back and sat back down beside Mason.

"GET BACK IN THERE LIAM." Coach pointed back to the front of the line, and Scott and Stiles' eyes widened, fearful of history repeating itself.

I had faith in them. They stopped almost every player, they could stop Liam.

The tension brewed in the air. I watched as Stiles tightened his grip on his stick and my cousin dug his cleats in the ground.

When I heard the low growl emit from his throat, and the red eyes appearing, I was already leaping off of the bleachers. This was going to end badly.

Mason glanced at me in concern, but I politely ignored him, running to the field.

After dodging Stiles, Liam hurdled towards Scott, who aggressively pushed him, flipping him over his back.

I heard the ear-splitting crack and ran onto the field, aiding to the boy I hardly knew.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM." Coach warned as Stiles and Scott lifted their helmets off.

I ran to Stiles' side and watched as the boy struggled on the turf, writhing in pain.

"Oooo…" I breathed, "That does not look good."

"I'm okay coach," He lied, trying to pick himself up. "I'm alrAHHH." He screamed.

Stiles looped one arm underneath him while Scott looped the other.

"I think it's my leg…" Liam breathed.

"It is definitely your leg." I clarified, observing the swollen limb. I could hear his blood pmup rapidly in adrenaline.

"We better get him to the nurse," Stiles suggested.

"Or the hospital," I intervened, grabbing my keys from my purse. "I'll go grab my car, you guys wait in the parking lot.

Running as fast as I could without fully using my abilities I sprinted to my golf. I climbed in the driver's seat, jammed my keys into the ignition and started the car.

I pulled out of my parking spot and did a 360 turn to head towards the front of the school.

When I saw a limping Liam, accompanied by my dim-witted cousin and his best friend, I pulled up beside them.

They hopped in and I speeded out of the parking lot and onto the small road leading to the hospital.

When we arrived a short amount of time later, I parked in front of the hospital and walked to the back, waiting for them to get out.

Stiles get out, and gave Liam a hand, and Scott went to put his arm underneath him to aid in walking.

Liam winced, frightful of Scott's motives, so I hooked my arm around Liam, Stiles on his other side. We slowly limped inside, and when we did, Scott ran to the front desk asking for the secretary to page Melissa McCall.

Before she could even page her, Melissa came strolling down the hallway in pink scrubs. When her eyes lifted to us, she sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "Oooooh boy."

"Hi Mom…"

I gave her an awkward smile, and Stiles waved with his free hand.

"Do I want to know what happened?"

I bit my lip, "It's his leg," I pointed to the swollen limb as Liam moaned in pain as he tried to adjust himself on me "I think it's broken."

Melissa blew a raspberry and walked into a storage facility beside her. She pulled out a wheelchair, unfolding it, and pushed it towards Liam.

Liam gladly took it as Stiles and I helped him sit.

He sighed in pain, gripping the handles of the wheelchair.

Melissa walked over to the secretary, grabbing a clipboard and a pen and turned back to us. "I'm going to get a doctor and an X-ray tech to take a look at it. Its either broken or a really bad sprain. What happened?"

"Lacrosse happened," I chuckled.

She nodded, turning back to her clipboard to write something. "What's your name hun?" She asked Liam.

"Liam Dunbar."

"Thank you." She scribbled and turned back to us, "You guys head on home I got it from here." She took one last glance at Liam's foot, pressing the pads of her fingers to it gently, and then started pushing Liam away. "Don't worry Liam, we'll take good care of you."

She propelled back a vex expression before frowning and disappearing in the elevator's twin metal doors.

Stiles twirled his keys in his fingers, spinning them around the index one. "Alright, I gotta get going. I promised my Dad I'd do some studying for the PSAT's."

"Alright," I sighed, "I'll drive you back to the school to get your jeep."

"I'll stay here," Scott reported, "I wanna check on him later anyways." His gaze fell to the tiled, scuffed floor beneath us.

"Hey," Stiles started, picking up Scott's stress, "I don't need to say this wasn't your fault, right?"

Scott's lip twitched. "I don't know."

"Hey," I nudged my cousin, "It was an accident."

"Maybe it was."

"Scott. If you used any wolf power on that kid he wouldn't be limping…" He assured, "He'd be crawling. Back to the other half of his body."

"If I hadn't been so worried about being captain he wouldn't be hurt either." Stiles' attempt to cheer his friend up were failing.

I rolled my eyes. He was being ridiculous, in a sweet way. "Hey, I don't blame you Scott. Everyone gets a little angry playing sports. Especially at Liam. I mean have you seen that little punk? What is he-like a were-cheetah?"

"That's what I said!" Stiles smacked my chest.

I grinned up at him.

Stiles' smile quickly faded as he saw Scott's miserable, drooping body hunch over in shame. He sighed through his nostrils. "It's okay to want something for yourself once in a while. Team Captain. Alpha werewolf… But you're still human."

"Well not really..." I shrugged.

Stiles playfully glared at me, before patting Scott's back and towing me out the door.

* * *

After dropping Stiles off at his Jeep, we shared another awkward goodbye, which surprisingly ended up with a small peck this time. After the short trek home, I undressed myself and hopped in the shower.

It was a much-needed shower.

The metallic head that hung loosely above me sprayed warm water on my body. It rained down my skin, cleaning me. I could feel my muscles relax, knots in my back untie, and my calf muscles seized it's painful cries.

The steam forming resembled thick fog, condensing on the clear glass beside me.

I grazed the soap over my body, closing my eyes as the scolding water hit my face. After running my hand through my long hair, I sat down in the shower, taking the relaxation in.

Today was a shockingly normal day. Well, as normal as it would get for us. I had forgotten about the painful last few weeks and actually distracted myself long enough to not feel like I was on the verge of tears

Knowing I'd be alone for a while, I took a half hour long shower.

It probably would have been longer if it wasn't for the crashes and bangs upstairs.

Inquisitiveness got the best of me and I wrapped a towel around my pale body, not bothering to mop away the water droplets of myself off.

Trying to pick up a scent, I sniffed the air as I opened the door, a cloud of steam dissipating around me.

I froze in my tracks when I smelt a newly familiar smell. It was slightly sweaty, but stenched of sweetness, something similar to freshly baked bread. It smelt like Liam. But what in God's name would he be doing in my house?

I clutched my towel tighter to me and vigilantly took each step up the stairs. There was another smell, Scotts. Was that Scott? I couldn't tell, there was too much chemoreceptors. It reeked of anxiety, fear, and stress.

I heard a few mumbled shrieks, and quickened my pace up the stairs, trying to grip the floors with my wet feet.

I almost slipped as I whipped around the banister, running to Scott's room.

I barged through the semi-opened door and he looked up at me, hands intertwined in his lap, and nervousness radiating off of him.

"What did you do," I immediately accused.

"I uh… Well at the hospital there was a complication, and well— I may have… um…" he stammered.

"Scott..." I arched a brow, taking another slippery step towards him, tying my towel around me tighter.

He rubbed his clammy hands together with downcast eyes. "There was this mishap and then he started falling off the building.. so I had to save him, I couldn't just let him die.

There was another mumbled scream and my head shot towards it. It was emitting from Scott's bathroom. Using my speed, I ran over to it, searching everywhere for the noise.

I yanked the shower curtain back and saw it. Liam was duct taped— and when I say duct taped I mean he was head-to-toe duct taped— squirming in the bath tub with an alarmed expression. His bright, blue, wide, eyes met mine and my mouth fell agape. I small gasp escaped my lips as I watched Liam shrink back into the bathtub as he trembled in fear, or in lack of warmth. Or maybe both.

"What did you do?!" I yelled back at my cousin.

"It was an accident!" he defended, barging through the door. "There was this axe murdered and—"

"Axe murderer?!" I interrupted.

"Yes! Okay. So this morning this axe murderer killed this kid's family, Sean. Sean was admitted into the hospital and a few hours ago he went crazy rabid and tried to kill everyone."

"Woah woah woah…" I held up a hand, "What?" I was about to continue, but the smell of poisoned blood stopped me in my tracks. "Whose blood is that?"

"Let me finish," He rushed, "So Sean ended up being this…._ Thing. _He called himself a wendigo. He had these weird grey eyes and teeth like a shark, but that doesn't matter." He was talking so fast I could hardly keep up. "So Sean tried to kill Liam. He kidnapped him and took him to the hospital's rooftop landing and swung him over the side of the building. Me, being the good alpha that I am, tried to pry him off of Liam. But in order to push Sean off, I would need to acquire three arms. So, being human, I only have two," He held up his hands in explanation.

"Scott, please get to the point." I pressed.

"So I may have bit him in order to save his life." His face scrunched up in fear of my reaction. He clenched his fists, waiting for my response.

I froze, bug eyed at Scott.

Holy Shit. Oh my God. No.

I crouched down to Liam's level and snatched his arm up, despite him trying to back away. Sure enough, there was a semi-healed werewolf bite on his left arm.

His eyes widened and he tried to scream again.

I went to rip the tape off his mouth, but a knock on the door interrupted me.

"Who is that?" I asked.

He bit his lip.

I glared at my cousin, "That's not Stiles… is it?"

His shoulders shrugged back.

"Scott! Why did you call him? His plans are terrible!"

"Not as terrible as this!" He yelled back, running down the stairs to attend to Stiles.

"True," I shrugged, mostly to myself. I sighed, crouching back to Liam's height.

He didn't say anything, well he couldn't. But he didn't attempt to say anything. His eyes were wide, and I couldn't tell if that was because a junior girl he just met was standing in front of him half naked, or because he was enduring in the most frightening night of his life. Well second most frightening life, if he lived through the bite and made it to the full moon.

Attempting to make the kidnapping situation a little less stressful, I ripped off the tape around his ankles. I noticed that this leg was surprisingly better, which was a good sign that he was surviving the bite. He whimpered as I ripped off some of his leg hair, but remained mostly calm.

"Listen," I whispered to Liam, low enough so Scott wouldn't pick up the sound of my voice. "What my cousin did to you…" I played with my wet hair, watching it drip to my feet as I tried to reassure, "It's…. complicated. But I promise you I'll get you out of it. Just don't be mad at him… pretty please…"

"What's he doing?" Stiles' voice interrupted my plead.

"Umm… Lying down," I heard Scott reply. A few footsteps later, I watch Stiles widen his eyes at my lacking of clothes, but went more bug-eyed when he saw the freshman hostage in the bathtub, duct-taped.

He incoherently mumbled at Stiles, but Stiles just sighed, shaking his head.

Stiles trotted over to Scott's bed, sitting on it. Scott followed, but I stayed, crouched on the floor. Just like Stiles, I shook my head, leaning my elbow on the side of the tub and pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose.

Liam grunted something at me but his mumbles weren't able to manifest themselves into actual words.

"I have no idea what you're saying." I elucidated with a slight head tilt to emphasize.

"So you bit him…" I heard Stiles presuppose.

"Yeah."

"And you kidnapped him."

"…Yeah."

"And you brought him here."

"I panicked…"

"Clearly!" I roared from the bathroom, which startled Liam into a slight jump.

"This isn't going to end with us burying pieces of his body in the desert is it?" Stiles teased.

Liam, clearly hearing his jokes and taking it to seriously, went into a panic frenzy. He starting shrieking under the tape and his body jolted back and forth, writhing in the tiny bathtub.

"Okay," I stood up, "Guys? Can we deal with this?" I pointed to Liam.

"As a reminder: this is why I always come up with the plans." Stiles prompted, walking to the bathroom, "Your plans suck."

When he made it back to the washroom, he paused, pointing at me. "And why are you in a towel? Soaking wet? I mean not that I mind but—"

"Guys," Scott interrupted, pushing Stiles out of the way, "Not now."

Using my speed, I rushed downstairs and grabbed a robe, covering my body with it. I ran back up half a second later. None of them seemed phased by my abilities anymore, except for Liam, who must've have assumed he was hallucinating or something.

After ripping off the tape from the bottom portion of his body, they re-taped him to one of the chairs from the dining room. They placed him at the foot of Scott's bed, and cornered him, ready to address the topic Scott was desperately trying to avoid.

I plopped down on Scott's bean bag chair, avoiding any part in this whole ordeal.

I would just let them do the talking and intervene if needed.

"Liam," Stiles pointed at the boy, "we're going to take the tape off your mouth. If you scream, it goes right back on. If you talk quietly it stays off. Got it?" The boy nodded, furiously talking in deep breaths in and out through his nostrils. He looked like a bull, ready to charge.

"Okay," Stiles nodded at Scott for him to go ahead.

Scott just trembled, so Stiles went ahead and ripped it off.

He grunted at the force of the rip, and Stiles winced making an "Eah…" noise.

"Now Liam, you've seen a lot of confusing things tonight. And more confusing things are going to happen because of the confusing things that happened tonight. Do you understand?"

"Not really." He huffed in anger.

"Good, that's good."

"I don't understand either." Scott's gaze shifted around the room, as if he was searching for some hidden answer.

"Well maybe you should tell him."

"Tell me what?!" Liam trembled, in fear and anger.

"Oh God." For the zillionth time that night, I face palmed myself.

"Liam…" Scott started, "What happened to you, what I did to you, which I had to do in order to save you, i-it's gonna change you."

"Unless it kills you." Stiles blurted out.

"Stiles!" I hissed.

This kid was shaking in terror and rage. He was either going to have a panic attack or kill one of them, which I didn't blame him for. We needed him as calm as possible.

"Shouldn't have said that…"

"Whaa..?" Liam breathed, his lip quivering. His eyes brimmed with tears and his head hung low. I watched as a few sobs escaped from his chest.

"Uhh…" Stiles shifted his weight. "Uh oh… I-Is he crying?"

"Way to go idiots." I stood up, walking between Stiles and Scott, monitoring Liam in front of me.

I kneeled forward to him, trying to lock eyes. "Hey, Liam."

He whimpered.

"It's okay; you're going to be alright. You're not going to die." I placed a comforting hand on his brawn shoulders.

"Probably not…"

"Stiles!" I pivoted back to him, glaring.

"Okay possibly not."

"Stop it…" Scott shushed. "Would you help me untie him?"

"Yup."

I moved out of the way as they untied Liam's back. Liam paused his sobs, shooting me a mysterious gaze.

I cocked my head at him.

He smirked when they ripped the tape of his mouth, and slowly stood up, rubbing his cuffs.

"Hey, Liam, you okay?" Scott asked.

"Guys…" I presaged. He was faking crying, because suddenly the tears stopped falling, and he started giving off a powerful scent, one that smelt of confidence, which he definitely would not have in a situation unless he had devised some sort of a plan.

"Yeah, we're really sorry—" Stiles started, but was cut off by Liam swinging the chair around and smashing it over Scott's head.

"Liam!" Stiles took a step towards the freshman, "What the hell is your prob—" A deafening crunch radiated from the contact of Liam's fist reaching Stiles' jaw.

I ran over to him, aiding Stiles, but he pushed me off.

I watched as they stumbled out of the room, trying to hang on to one another, and then Stiles yelled "GET HIM!" and they sprinted down the hallway.

I heard a tumbling noise, along with a series of groans and grunts, but by the time I made it to the stairs to see what happened, I just two Scott and Stiles grabbing each other's limbs screaming 'I got him!' and 'A leg! I got a leg!' while I witnessed Liam sprint through the front door.

"Your plans suck too." Scott groaned.

"I told you…" I reminded Scott, offering each of them a hand.

"Why didn't you grab him?" Stiles snapped at me.

My mouth fell open, "Well sorry for trying to help you after you just got punched!"

"Guys..." Scott seized us.

They finally took my offering hands, and hoisted themselves up. We all sighed in unison at the open door, swinging in the cold winter air.

* * *

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Quick question, is anyone still reading this besides RHatch89? (Thanks for your lovely reviews by the way). Hopefully a few of you can drop a review, letting me know your thoughts. It's the only thing that keeps me writing! Otherwise there's really no point. As much as I hate asking for reviews, I just really want to know your guys' thoughts and know that people are still reading this! On another note, how are you feeling about Stanna's relationship? Did I do Liam's scene okay? I'm planning to make Liam and Anna pretty close, like in a brother-sister type relationship. What do you guys think? Let me know :)**

**Thanks again, R&R please!**


	6. Chapter 6

"So," I turned to Stiles, "We have a newly bitten werewolf,"

"Yep,"

"And uncontrollable were-coyote,"

"Mhm."

"A not so all-knowing alpha,"

"Correct,"

"And they're all running around the school on the day of the full moon."

"Pretty much." Stiles puckered his lips, making a popping noise.

I let out a long-suffering sigh, walking out into the courtyard at the front of the school, just as the busses were arriving. "So what are the plans tonight?"

"Not quite sure yet," He mumbled, "Probably head to Lydia's lake house and tie them up."

"You have Malia's chains, right?" I glanced at Stiles, tightening my grip on my backpack strap.

"What? No. I gave them to you."

I shook my head, "No, last time we were at Lydia's house, in the basement, and you said you would take them because you could hide them in your closet."

"Yeah but we took your car, and I left them in there right before I got out,"

"Are you sure?" My blue eyes slimmed on his brown ones.

"Positive," He turned to me, halting our walk to history class.

"Hmm, maybe you're right," I shrugged, thinking back to the last full moon.

"I'm always right," He teased, shuffling closer to me. He awkwardly tightened his grip on his backpack strap, shuffling closer to me.

"Lies…" I whispered smiling up at him.

He shuffled closer and closer, close enough that our chests were touching.

I know what he was trying to get at. He wanted a kiss, but I would taunt him as long as possible for payback for not kissing me for so long after the first time. I could tell Stiles and I were getting closer. Close enough that we were basically dating without a label.

He sighed through his nostrils, a cute tight-lipped smile on his face. I heard his heartbeat rise and watched as his cheeks flushed red.

He was just about to lean in when I heard a drumming, pounding, ear-splitting heartbeat. Just as he was about to kiss me, I whipped my head to the noise, feeling Stiles' hot breath on my left cheek. Liam was leaning on a pillar in front of the school, gripping it as he talked to Mason. His breathing was speedy and shallow, and beads of sweat started to form on his head.

"Ah come on…" I heard Stiles mutter low enough that I almost didn't catch it.

Scott was possessively glaring at Liam, not letting the young beta out of his sight. He was doing a perfect imitation of Derek. It was frightening, actually. It's like he took a 'how to stalk your beta 101' class.

I cupped a hand around my mouth and yelled across the square. "Scott, stop being creepy!"

Instead of responding to me, he just walked away.

I snorted as Liam turned back to Scott, freaking out internally when he saw that he wasn't there anymore.

"Come on, let's go." Stiles towed me towards where Scott was headed. I know where this was going. They wanted to corner him, force him into the locker room, and interrogate him.

"No no no…" I tried to pry his grip off of me. "I am not getting involved…"

"Anna come on—"

"I am going to get detention if I miss history again."

"Anna, Kira's dad teaches the class. He's not going to care if—"

"Kira!" Kira jumped at my name calling as she walked by, books clutched close to her chest. "Kira needs me. Right Kira?"

Kira's eyes grew ride, "Uh, sure."

"Gotta go, girl talk." I pushed Stiles away. "Goodbye!"

He groaned, throwing his hands in the air in frustration, but sprinted after Scott, talking the farthest exit to corner Liam, while Scott took the one closest to us.

I jogged to keep up with Kira's fast pace, "So I'm assuming Scott filled you in about last night?"

Kira nodded, tossing her short black hair over her shoulder, "And I informed Lydia, who informed Malia."

"Ah, I see." We turned a corner, heading up the stairs towards history.

"So how do you think tonight will go?"

"Not sure." I shrugged, my backpack slipping off.

"Can I ask you something?" Kira hesitantly asked.

"Shoot."

She exhaled. "Are you and Stiles, like together?"

Oh boy. "I-uh- I'm not sure."

"Hmm" She nodded. "Well, you and I are in similar situations."

"Yeah," I chuckled, "Scott's just not good at picking up hints."

"Neither is Stiles, apparently."

I nodded, smiling in agreement as we entered History class.

History passed quickly, as well as Biology and Trig, and when lunch finally rolled round, we all texted each other to meet at the busses to discuss the plans for tonight.

"I'm not sharing my basement," I heard Malia growl as I trotted into my circle of friends.

"Actually, it's my basement," Lydia batted her eyelashes at Malia, "And my mom noticed how you tore it up last time."

"Alright she's still learning!" Stiles defended, patting the were-coyote on the back.

"Well," Scott explained, "We're going to use the boathouse for Liam, it's got support beams. We can chain him to one of them."

"But how are we getting him out to the lake house if he doesn't trust us?" Sweet, innocent, petite Kira, questioned.

"I say if it keeps him from murdering someone," Stiles gestured a stabbing motion, "We just chloroform the little bastard and throw him in the lake."

"I'm in," Malia raised a hand.

"We're not killing or kidnapping him," Scott glared.

"Again…" I added.

"Then let's be smart." Lydia advocated, "We tell him there's a party and then fight him."

"So you're gonna ask out a freshman." Stiles made a face.

"Nah I'm done with teenage boys. But, I've notice Liam has a keen eye on a particular girl in this group." She turned to me.

"No." I shook my head, "No way."

"Yes you!" Lydia urged.

"No way," Those words came from Stiles' mouth instead of mine this time. "I'm not tossing my girlfriend over to some were-wolf freshman, who could possibly kill her."

_Girlfriend._

That was the only word I heard from that sentence.

_Girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend._

Apparently everyone else picked up the rare term Stiles just labeled me.

Kira grinned.

I watched as Stiles' cheeks flushed red, and I giggled to myself.

"Just do it," Lydia pushed, "For Stiles."

"What?" Stiles yelled.

Lydia sent a cynical smile my way. "You can do it, Anna."

"Liam doesn't even trust me. Might I remind you I aided and abetted during last night's infamous kidnapping."

Lydia rolled her eyes, "Come on, Anna. The only way we're going to get him to come is if you ask him."

"Do it," Scott pushed. Easy for him to say, he didn't care as long as it wasn't Kira.

I rolled my eyes, glancing at a worried Stiles.

I gnawed on my lip, internally debating, before finally deciding to go for it. "Fine"

* * *

Wearing a very busty shirt that Lydia had leant me, I strutted down the stairs, waiting for Liam to exit his Chemistry class. The black jeans corresponded flawlessly with the purple cleavage-desirable tee, and the high heels that I wore today phenomenally paired well. As soon as the bell rang they came pouring out of the room, scattering into the previously deserted hallway.

I descended down the stairwell, catching stairs of not only the freshman's but other students as well.

I felt tremendously awkward and provocative, but continued my descent.

Liam exited his class, accompanied by Mason, and they chatted about the Chemistry test next week.

When Liam's head darted towards mine, he did a double take.

Mason slapped his friend's chest, but Liam started striding towards me.

He did a slight eyebrow raise as I got closer.

The huge knot in my stomach made me feel nauseated. I wanted to flee this confrontation asap, but for the sake of his wolvelihood, I stayed.

"Hey Liam," I paused, leaning against one of the green locker's, "You want to go to a party tonight?"

He got all flustered and I saw a familiar shade of pink rise to his tiny cheeks, "I—uh…"

"I'll take that as a yes." I smirked, and as quickly as I disembarked there, I departed, but not before whipping around and yelling, "I'll pick you up at seven!"

God, we were in for one hell of a dreadful night.

Liam was going to despise each and every one of us.

* * *

Waiting outside Liam's house, I filled with trepidation. Not because I was lying to a freshman boy I just met, but because this particular freshman was a newly bitten werewolf and it was the night of his first full moon.

Considering the only two things that could kill me were stakes and werewolf's bite, I'd say that's not such an excellent situation for me to undergo.

What was taking him so long? After receiving his number from Mason, I texted him telling him I was waiting for him outside.

I listened in to the sounds of his house, hearing an older man talk.

_"So you're telling me some junior girl asked you to go to a party and she's waiting outside right now?"_

_"Yes Dad. She's waiting. Can I please go now?"_

There was a "hmm," noise, and I watched as the living room curtains drew back, revealing an older man, maybe early forties, staring at me.

Oh crap, he probably thought I had asked him out on a date.

God dammit Lydia.

Stiles texted me and I looked at my lap, where my cell phone was, glancing at it quickly while I waited for Liam to lock his front door.

**Have you left yet?**

I touched the cold screen with my pads,

**Leaving now. Be there in ten.**

I heard my passenger door open, and Liam slid in, smiling at me with ease, biding a quick hello as he buckled his seatbelt in. I smiled back, reversing out of his driveway, but not before glancing back at the living room curtain's, seeing his father intently watching us as we sped off.

Trying to kill the awkward tension in the car, I turned on the radio, just low enough for us to still talk if we needed to.

Tapping my thumbs anxiously on the steering wheel, I gazed up in the sky, seeing the brightly lit full moon.

The moon was high in the sky, and Liam seemed to be affected by its powers.

He breathed heavily every now and again, rubbing the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes.

"A-Are you okay?" I asked, glancing at him quickly as I made a left hand turn to the middle of nowhere.

"I uh— where did you say this party was again?" He wheezed, noticing the unfamiliar foliage we were now enclosed in.

I clenched my hands tighter on the steering wheel, feeling nervous myself. "Its Lydia Martin's lake house. Actually, it's her grandmother's lake house but she's dead, so it's okay. Well— I-It's not okay that she's dead, but yeah. You get the point."

"Oh…" He exhaled, rubbing the sheer line of sweat pooling on his forehead. He was really starting to feel it now, now that it was darker and the moon was at its peak.

He breathed in and out, and started covering his eyes with the palm of his hands, groaning. "Can you turn the music down?"

"I… uh—" I looked at my radio, which was on its lowest setting, any quieter and the radio would be off. "Okay…" I turned the radio off, keeping my eyes ahead at my high beams that light up the road in front of me.

A buzzing cell phone jolted Liam into a panicked frenzy. He jumped, bumping his head on the roof of the car, but snatched his phone from his lap, texting someone. "W-Who'd you say was coming to this party?"

Shit. What do I say? "Um… Everyone..?" I replied in a questioning tone, praying he would buy it.

He took the bait, and nodded.

After a minute or two of awkward silence, Liam's body lurched forward. He gripped the car's handle for support and started aggressively inhaling and exhaling. Momentarily, I saw claw's extend themselves from the tips of his fingers, but retract back when he grunted.

"Sure you're okay?" I grimaced.

"What's happening to me…?" He exhaled, a low growl emitting from him.

"Please don't kill me…" I breathed, low enough for it to go unheard. I scooted as far left in the driver's seat as possible, pressing the left side of body against the door. If he shifted right now, I would be dead.

I just prayed he could hold out till we reached the lake house.

When the mansion came into view, I breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing Stiles' jeep, Scott's motorcycle, and Kira's red Toyota, I parked beside them.

Liam shot me a questioning look as his suspicion grew. "Where is everyone?" I asked as we exited my tiny car.

"It's a small party…" I lied, pressing the back of my hand on Liam's jean jacket, urging him to enter the lake house before he shifted.

He heaved a breath and I immediately retracted my hand, slightly afraid that he was going to bite me. "But you said everyone was coming."

"They are…" I clapped my hands together, shouldering him towards the beautiful, pitch back, house. "They're late. And we're early. So let's… party… yay….!"

Liam shook it off, walking up the few porch steps to the house.

I turned the expensive-looking doorknob, stepping into the dark house.

Liam walked in after me and froze when he saw them. They were all lined up by the fireplace. Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and Stiles. Stiles sent a small wave, nodding at Liam.

Liam looked to me for a plausible explanation but I just shrugged. "Sorry bud…" I closed the door and gave him a small pat on the back before walking between Stiles and Malia.

"I told you I gave you the chains!" I gestured to the glass coffee table in front of Stiles and I which had Malia's chains on it.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Okay, I get it. You're always right."

I smirked smugly.

"What the hell is this?" Liam threw his hands up in the air in dissatisfaction.

"Think of it as an intervention," Stiles stepped forward, "you have a problem, Liam."

"And we're the only ones that can help." Scott adjoined.

I let Scott do the explaining, and we all awkwardly shifted as we tried to let Liam process all of this. He gestured to each of us, elucidating what we were, and how we became that way.

"That was the most stressful drive of my life," I whispered to Stiles, "I almost died."

Stiles snaked his arm around my waist, and I felt like my heart would spring out of my chest when I felt him plant a kiss on my brown hair, "Well at least you're here now."

The corners of my lips quirked up into a giddy smile.

"Wait…" Liam cut off, locking eyes with me. "So you're not single?"

"Seriously?" Stiles glared at him, "That's the only piece of information you got out of **all **that?" he gestured with his free hand to Scott.

"Dude," I gave Liam a penetrating stare, "I'm like three years older then you."

"So let me get this straight." Liam pointed to Scott, "Werewolf," Scott nodded, "Were-coyote," Malia nodded, "Banshee," Lydia nodded, "Vampire," I nodded, "Fox." He paused at Kira.

"Kitsune," She clarified, "But fox works."

"What are you?" He blasted at Stiles.

He shifted, "Umm for a little while he was possessed by an evil spirit," He scratched his forehead, "It was very evil."

"Diabolic," I added.

"What are you now?"

"Better..? Umm…" He glanced down at me.

"Are those for me?" Liam tilted his head towards Malia's chains.

"No, they're for me." Malia's eyes flashed a bright glowing blue.

His eyes widened, and he stumbled back. "H-How'd you do that?"

"You'll learn," Scott instructed, "But first you need to get him through the full moon."

"The moons already out." He swallowed.

I listened in to the sound of his heartbeat, which was rapidly pacing, more than normal human beings. I noticed a change in Liam. He no longer smelt good anymore, but took up the familiar wet dog smell that all werewolves took upon. My nostrils flared in disgust,

"And you're starting to feel something aren't you?"

"I **feel **like I'm surrounded by a bunch of psychotic nut jobs!" His heart rate was flying, beating a thousand times faster than I had ever heard anyone's heartbeat go. I felt bad for him. I just wanted to help him, and I knew Scott felt the same way, but ten times worse because he accidently caused this.

I could smell a scent emitting off of Liam, anger. He was angry, and scared. "You guys are out of your freaking minds!" He yelled, spit airborne from his mouth. "I don't know how you did that eye thing, and I don't care. I'm walking out of the door right now and if any of you try to stop me—"

Not wanting him to leave, I sprinted over at an un-human pace to the front of the door.

When he saw how fast I moved, he nearly fainted, but continued in his rage. "What the..? Let me go! Or I SWEAR to God! I'm gonna—" Liam opened his mouth to say more, but instead started screaming, moaning, and panting. He clutched the sides of his head in pain and started spinning around the room, almost tumbling over Scott.

"What's wrong Liam?" Scott held out a helping hand.

"You don't hear that?!"

My ears perked up to the sound of a mob of teenagers forming outside. There was hooting, cheers, and laughter. The smell of booze and cigarette smoke filled my nostrils.

Scott caught it too, and cocked his head.

When numerous pairs of headlights flashed through the small opening in the living room window, everyone's heads jerked to it.

"Did you tell someone about this?" Lydia asked Liam.

"My friend, Mason."

Oh God. Anyone but Mason. I quickly moved to the window and observed the bigger mob forming. Cars pulled up and kegs of alcohol came out. Beer bottles were already displayed out on the lawn.

"You said there was a party!" Liam jerked his head to me as he collapsed onto the floor.

"And who did Mason invite?" Stiles arched a thick brow.

"Everyone…" I bit my lip.

Liam grunted, trying to push himself off the floor. There was a scratching noise and my eyes widened at Liam's claws, leaving deep marks in the wooden floor.

"The floors!" Lydia hissed, jumping forward, "Get him off the floors!"

Scott and I, being the closest, pounced at Liam. He growled at all three of us, canine teeth extending and yellow eyes glowing in the dark. Lydia and I jumped back in fear.

"We need to get him to the boathouse!" Scott looked at me, "Now!"

Since Kira didn't have the strength to haul the new beta to the boathouse without his permission, I volunteered to.

"Where are you going?" Stiles cocked his head, a presentiment expression taking over his face.

"I'll be fine," I assured, hesitating to link my arm around a snapping Liam, "I promise. Just chain Malia up, I'll come back and help in a minute."

He groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

I admit, it was adorable seeing Stiles worry about me, but that wasn't the only reason I was now hauling and unwilling Liam out the back door to the boat house, trying to go unseen from his classmates. I hated the fact that I had to live in fear of my friends, new and old. I hated that most of them were werewolves/coyotes and that I had to avoid them on the night of a full moon at all costs. So starting tonight, I promised myself I wouldn't shy away from that. I wanted to help Liam, and if that meant getting hurt in the process, so be it.

In a way, if felt like he was my responsibility. He was so young, only fifteen years old.

I tried to avoid his bites and snaps at me, occasionally speeding off, but then returning to help Scott.

He growled uncontrollably, and I winced, hoping the hoard of teenagers that were now entering the lake house wouldn't notice. Eventually we got him to the boathouse, and Kira came running down a few seconds later with chains to restrain the wolf.

He growled over and over, screaming horrible threats at us and spitting at us whenever he raised his voice. I tried to thrust him against a wooden beam while Kira attempted to tie him up. Scott tried to chain his arms together, but even with the three of us it was difficult.

"Calm down Liam!" I spat, slamming him against one of the support beams again.

His face was inches from mine, snapping at me with his canines.

His glowing yellow eyes stared into mine, and in defense, I felt my face shift, turning my eyes a deep red color. He hesitated for a seconds, but then pounced on top of me, leaving Kira on the floor with the chains on her.

He pinned me down. One hand on each arm, and I tried to squirm in his grasp,

"Scott, get him off of me!" I shrieked, moving my hands to his biceps in attempt to avoid his nips at me.

Scott hoisted him off of me, but then the two of them were wrestling, knocking various item's over with their body.

Kira came to the rescue and smashed a wooden oar over his head.

I immediately heard his heartbeat calm, but not quite to a normal pace, and Liam crumbled to the floor.

"Oh God!" She kneeled beside him, "I didn't kill him. Did I?"

"He's fine," I panted, tongue lolling out.

"I hope Stiles is having better luck," Kira pondered.

Stiles.

I had forgotten.

I looked to Scott and he nodded in confirmation, sensing my predictable motives. "Go," he exhaled, "We got it from here."

I gave him a breath-less smile, placing my tiny hands on my hips, and then ran back towards the lake house. When I got closer to the party, I slowed, making sure no drunk teenagers saw me.

I took the back entrance, walking straight into the basement. Stiles glanced over at me, giving me a small wave as he sat on an old, rickety, wooden stool in front of Malia.

Malia, already shifted, was chained against the cement wall. She seemed pretty calm.

"How are you doing Malia?" I asked, pulling up a chair beside Stiles.

"I feel like I'm going to explode," She blurted out, attempting to claw at us a few times. "I wanna tear you guys apart…" She breathed in a deep voice. She grunted, and then started to slash the air again. "I want to feel your bones **_crush_** between my hands."

"Surprisingly enough, you're not the first person to say that," Stiles stated.

I snorted.

"So how was Liam?" He smirked.

Shrugged, "As expected—trying to claw our throats out."

He nodded, his head bopping up and down. "So, uh, did I ever tell you why he got kicked out of Devenford Prep?"

My eyes widened, and I scooted my seat closer to him. "You found out?"

"Yup," He replied, popping the _p _with his lips.

"Perks of being the Sherriff's son, I suppose." I smiled.

"Actually, I just asked around and a few of the freshman's fessed up." He shoved his hand in his jacket pocket, pulling out his phone. After swiping the screen rapidly with his thumb a few times, he handed it to me.

Displayed on the phone was a blue Chevrolet. It was a nice car, except for the fact that it was _completely _destroyed. Windows shattered, car smothered in paint and eggs, tires slashed, dents everywhere…

The damage was unbelievable.

"He kind of got into it with one of his teachers and well… let's just say kid's got some serious anger issues."

"No kidding…"

"Yeah," Stiles let out a half suppressed laugh, "One hell of a way to retaliate."

I heard Malia hiss at us through her teeth, but I ignored her, "Makes sense why he was trying to murder us down there," I said, referring to the boathouse. "He's going to need to control that."

I heard Malia growl again and I monetarily glanced at the sweaty girl. "Come here!" she shrieked, her hands coming together in a slashing motion.

"Hmm…" I lifted a finger to my mouth, tapping it against my lips, "That's one hell of an idea, but I think I'll pass on getting my throat cut tonight."

Stiles let out a hearty laugh, patting my hand in my lap.

My mind started to wander, curious about earlier by the busses. Were we together? Was that a slip-up? AN accident? What if he didn't want that? I didn't blame him if he didn't want me. I could potentially become a blood-sucking murderer.

Then again, he was a possessed murdering demon at one point.

Eh, relationships aren't perfect.

The music above us caught my attention, and I diverted my senses to it.

There was loud, thumping music that shook the whole house. The bass vibrated throughout. There were beer bottles clanging, drunks stumbling, and I could hear hundreds of different voices and smell a diverse amount of scents. Booze, cigarette smoke, werewolves, horny freshman's, and fresh blood.

I pursed my lips, closing my eyes.

Starting to feel the effects of being a vampire, I panted, breathing in and out rapidly.

So many smells…

So sweet.

There were so many kids up there, no one would notice if one was gone.

No.

I would never do that.

But everything smelt so good.

I felt my face shift, and I panted even harder, trying to flush out any scents.

It seemed nearly impossible, though.

"Woah woah woah," Stiles placed his hand on my shoulder, "Are you okay?"

I glanced at his wrist, his warm, blood circulated wrist. I watched as the veins made a lub-dub beat, and I could hear his heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Knowing what was going on, he snatched his wrist back, rubbing it with the other hand.

I stood up. "I— uh… I have to get some fresh air…"

He nodded over exuberantly. "Yeah, go ahead. Do what you need to do."

I was lucky he was so understanding.

Using my speed, I sprinted out of the basement and into the cold night, walking back down towards the boathouse. No one there smelt good, no offense to the kitsune or werewolves…

I don't know what was happening; I was doing so well the past few weeks. All I could think about right now was that thick, red, savory liquid. It had crossed my mind a few times today, which it normally wouldn't have. I clutched the side of my head with he palms of my head. Fighting back the urge hurt. It gave me a massive mirgraine.

My animal instincts were trying to take over, but I gripped a tree near the boathouse, trying to restrain myself from attacking the partiers.

There was a large growl impending from the boathouse, which captured my attention, and I heard a loud smashing noise. I watched as glass flew everywhere, and a werewolf jumped out of the boathouse and into the forest nearby.

"Shit…" I sighed.

I guess that was my cue to help out. It would distract me anyways. I felt my feet pick up as I started sprinting through the forest after the new beta.

He was a fast runner for a little guy, but I was still faster.

The track blurred below me as I felt a surge of adrenaline. The fast paced steps of my feet against the forest floor echoed in my ears, as well as the whistling wind.

I could spot Liam just a few yards ahead of me, so I pushed myself further and ran faster. Once I got ahead of him, I stopped, impeding him in his escape.

He was completely wolfed out now. Patches of hair on his face, canine teeth, brooding brows, hazardous yellow eyes, which were now wide in astonishment.

He hissed under his breath, staggering back.

"Liam…" I held out my hands in a seizing motion, "You need to calm down."

He just growled at me, lunging forward.

I spun around him, dodging the nip, and faced him again.

"What's happening to me?!"

"You're a werewolf Liam. You need to calm down, and shift back…" I proposed.

"I CAN'T." He huffed. He started to lean forward to me, and I could tell he was going to dive for me again, so I ran past him.

He spun around, facing me again and gave me a look of confusion at how fast I was. His dagger-like eyes pierced mine, and I filled with trepidation. He wasn't Liam anymore, he was an animal. He was ready to kill.

My lip quivered, staring at his monstrous form, and when he started to bolt towards me, I attempted to speed off.

At first, I was running to catch a werewolf, now I was running away to save my own life from one

I could feel him right on my heels, and next thing I knew, I was tumbling down a hill, rolling with Liam as he landed on top of me. My back landed on a sharp rock and I arched it in pain, letting out a small gasp.

He made continuous snaps at me, but I tried to hold his wrists, using my strength to push him off of me. He was one strong werewolf, I must say.

His claws came crashing down, cutting my upper left arm. It only nicked it a little, but still enough to leave three small bloody gashes.

His breath was hot on my face, and I tried to squirm out of his straddling position on top of me.

"SCOTT!" I called out, but I could pick up his scent that still seemed a while away. "Liam, stop!" I tightened my grip on his wrists and he whimpered in pain, but continued to snap at me. "You can control this!" Nothing I was saying seemed to catch his attention. "Liam you're hurting me!" I grunted, attempting to knee him in the crotch.

His restraint on me was too tight.

He continuously attempted to sink his teeth in me. One bite and I was dead. "Liam," I begged, "Please. If you bite me you'll kill me."

I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes, but as quickly as I saw it, it went absent.

Luckily, for me, Scott came running on all fours towards Liam. He tackled him from the side, shoving him off of me and freeing me from his restraint.

I dusted myself off, observing the small claw marks on my arm. I was lucky it wasn't worse. The only crappy thing about this is that it wouldn't heal. I wouldn't be able to hide this from Stiles, either. He would hate Liam even more then he already does.

There were growls, teeth chatters, snaps, harsh words and spit coming from the boys beside me. Liam now had Scott pinned against a tree, screaming in his face. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" He grabbed the collar of Scott's shirt, shoving him against the hard bark.

Scott tried to shove him off of him, grabbing his jacket. "Liam!"

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT." He repeated, his deep voice echoing in the recently quiet woods. "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT."

He lifted a large claw in the air, prepping for it to come crashing down on Scott's face.

Just as I was about to go help my cousin, an arrow whizzed past me, hitting the tree bark just above Scott's head.

While the werewolves shrieked and grabbed anything they could hold onto for support, momentarily blinded, I whipped my head to the archer.

I smirked, seeing my best friend's father in an aiming stance, smiling back at me.

Chris Argent.

"How did you know?" Scott asked, ignoring the fact that Liam had staggered off into the forest.

He strutted towards us, smugly delivering the words, "I got your text."

Scott beamed up at him, and Chris sent a small smile back, exhaling through his nostrils. He turned to me, lifting the bow onto his shoulder. He gripped my tiny shoulder, "Go. Get the boy before he hurts someone." He ordered, "There's a clearing just North of here. Corral him there, the rest is taking care of."

I nodded, running off as fast as possible.

I wasn't quite sure how far he was, but when I heard the ear-piercing electrical noise emitted throughout the forest, I knew where he was. I knew that sound anywhere, it was Argent's emitters.

I slowed to a walk when he came into sight. He was shrieking in pain, clawing the ground as he growled over and over.

He rubbed his temples, trying to drown out the noise.

I didn't blame him, it was extremely loud. I covered my ears, groaning in pain. "Liam," I shouted over the pulses of electricity that were emitted.

I got as close as possible to him without physically touching him. I needed an escape route in case he lunged for me again. His face was mostly shifted back, but if he shifted again, I would need to flee as quickly as possible.

"Liam, it's okay." I crouched down to him, "It'll be alright."

His voice got shallow, and he calmed when the emitters were turned off, the deafening sound seizing. "W-What's wrong with me?"

I felt like sobbing. He didn't deserve this. But if there was anyone who could handle this as well as he Scott could, it would be Liam. "Liam…" I said, hesitantly touching his back while I tucked a long strand of hair behind my ear. "There's nothing wrong with you." I moved my hind in a soothing circular motion, which appeared to help. "This isn't your fault. It isn't anyone's fault."

"What's happening to me?" He pouted, looking up at me.

"The same thing that happened to me"

Both Liam and I turned our heads to Scott's voice. He trotted over to Liam, staring down at him.

"Oh my God…" Liam raised a hand to his mouth. "They can't know about this. My mom… My stepdad… I-I can't do this to them again."

"What do you mean, 'again'?"

His lip quivered, and he crouched in front of Scott, his hands gripping the fallen leaves on the ground, "I got kicked out of school and I deserved it." He sat back on his feels, the leaves crunching beneath him. "The way they looked at me when they saw that car…" A mild sob fled from his chest.

"Liam, it's okay." I continued the smooth circular motions on his back.

"They can't see me like this. Like…" He was at a loss for words.

"Like a monster," Scott finished for him.

Liam's eyelids snapped shut and he nodded, weeping on the ground.

Scott stood up, just as I did. I watched as Scott stared down at Liam, and a familiar musky scent mixed with leather filled my nostrils. Chris Argent watched us from a distance, balancing himself against a tree.

"You're not a monster." Scott smiled, catching Liam's attention. "You're a werewolf, like me." His eyes flashed a blazing red, and I smiled.

It was clear Scott's words had calmed Liam, for he was now starting to hoist himself off the ground, staring at his alpha in front of him. I witnessed Liam's outlook on Scott shift. He respected his alpha, it was clear.

These were the words that would change Liam's life.

He was no longer Liam the lacrosse-playing, anger-plugged, freshman. He was Liam the werewolf.

We started walking back to the party, wanting to enjoy the last few minutes of it. After saying a few goodbye's to Chris, and introducing him to Liam, Argent stalked off.

We all took our time making it back to the lake house. We were pretty far out in the forest. Our feet blindly stumbled against the uneven terrain.

The only light was from the powerful full moon reflecting on the small lake beside us. I glanced at its brightness. It was almost too bright to look at. It was like a giant flashlight in the sky, shining down on us.

"Do you guys hear that?"

I cocked my head at Liam, but then I heard it.

The chatter of people, the revving of engines, the police sirens.

Why were the police there?

I highly doubt it was just to shut down some high school party.

We all exchanged a perplexed expression, and shifted into a light jog. When the flashing red and blue came into view, we slowed.

Stiles was chatting to his dad, one arm on his shoulder.

Lydia was leaning against a police car, talking to Deputy Parrish, and she was trembling, arms hugging her body.

Kira tapped her foot frantically as she crossed her arms over her chest.

I spotted Mason heading out with one of his friends, Garrett, and another older fellow. They gave Liam a small wave before their mustang disappeared in the darkness.

"Why?!" I yelled to the sky, "Why can't we just have one semi-normal night in Beacon Hills."

"What happened?" Scott jogged towards Stiles, ignoring me.

Stiles turned from his father towards us, looking relieved.

He ran his burly hand through his messy hair, and exhaled deeply out of his mouth.

"We need to talk."

* * *

**A/N: Look at me getting all these updates on time! I hope you enjoy this chapter, I have part of the next one written so you won't have to wait too long. Thanks for your recent thoughts. I hope you all are continuously loving this story after my small break! I promise I'll try to update as regularly as possible, (twice a week or more) and I hope you will still continue leaving reviews that make my day when i wake up to them in the morning. If any of you have any suggestions for me or critique, let me know :) **

**Since I have some spare time, I'm going to individually reply to the last few reviews.**

_**ArthurDragonPen: Thank you for your length review, those are always my favorite! Your outlook on my story really made me happy, it seemed truthful. I'm glad she is an easy character to understand. You're right, totally a cliche, but I'm glad you guys look past that and continue to read! Again, thank you for your review and I hope to continually hear from you. **_

_**Readingbeyondyourvocab: Thanks for your review, as always, I love them :) I'm glad you think they are otp!**_

_**FizzWizz2011: Thanks again for your reviews! Hope you enjoy the update.**_

_**RHatch89: Thank you for your continuous reviews. Hope this update was as good as the last!**_

**_lauraosnes: Thank you for your thoughts! I'm glad you like the Anna-Mason and Anna-Liam relationship._ **

**Anyways, thanks again guys. Just an added comment, if any of you are good at photo shop did you want to attempt a new cover photo? The one I made is terrible. **

**Sorry for the long A/N, anyways, yeah. Enjoy. R&R!**


	7. Chapter 7

I drove along the barren road, Liam beside me, thinking about tonight's events. The police were there because someone had been murdered, beheaded by a thermal cut wire. Why in God's name would someone do that? I don't know. All I knew is that Argent and Scott investigated with Sherriff Stilinski's permission, and they established the fact that he was a werewolf.

While I was dealing with Liam and Malia, something happened to Lydia in the lake house, in one of the expensive sound-proof rooms with record players, white carpet and fancy chairs. She heard voices, saw things, like a banshee usually does, and discovered a dead pool. She transcribed this hit list, for supernatural creatures.

We were all on it, millions of dollars written by our name.

I was worth fourteen million.

My life was worth fourteen million dollars, I still couldn't comprehend that.

I should kill myself for the money.

The daunting element was that she only exposed one third of the list. There were still two thirds. Even scarier than that? The divisions of the hit list need a cipher key to unlock them, and the first cipher key was Allison.

So someone at that party was murdering supernatural creatures, such as Demarco who delivered the keg. The axe murderer that murdered Sean and his family was a hit man for whoever had created this deadpool as well. Meanwhile, at the school, Derek and the Sherriff were inspecting a case. There was a bomb, that was now defused, and the axe murderer tried to set Derek up. Peter killed him and stalked off afterwards.

All I could think about was that dead pool.

Scott, Lydia, Derek, Kira, we were all on it. We all had our life on the line.

I shivered.

"So after you woke up, what happened?" Liam asked. He had been asking me questions about my transformation the whole car ride home. He was so curious.

"I almost died, again, because I couldn't keep any food down," I replied with a dour smile, "And then I attacked Stiles."

Liam grimaced, "Oh…"

"Yup. More than once. I tried to attack Melissa numerous times too."

"That must be awkward."

"Not really," I shrugged, spinning the steering wheel left, "She's used to all that supernatural crap from Scott, so she understood."

"Hmm," He bobbed his head up and down, "Is it hard being around her and Stiles?"

"Excruciatingly hard sometimes, especially with Stiles. Other times not so much though. Depends on my mood, or how hungry I am, or the environment I'm in, I guess."

I made another turn.

"You realize you can't tell anyone about any of this, right Liam?"

"I know."

"Good. We need to be careful, especially when's there's fourteen million dollars on my dead body, and millions more on Scott's, Kira's, Lydia's, and Derek's."

"Derek?"

I smirked. He didn't know him yet, I forgot. I ignored him and pulled into his driveway, waiting for him to step out.

"Thanks for the ride."

"No problem," I grinned, watching him get out.

He leaned his had back in. "Hey, uh, sorry for trying to kill you back there."

I shrugged, "No biggie. Surprisingly, I'm used to it."

He nodded, "Cool." I saw his face contort, and he looked guilty. I could smell the gloomy scent exuding from him.

He was just about to shut the door, but I leaned onto the passenger seat, peering up at him. "It's going to be okay, Liam." He nodded at my words, "We'll help you. You're not alone in this."

"I know."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you then."

"It's going to be okay." I repeated.

I wasn't sure if he truly believed what I was telling him, but either way, he took them, and shut the passenger door, strutting away from me.

I knew he would end up alright.

I would make sure of it.

* * *

"So explain this all to me, because I'm still slightly confused."

I bounced onto Stiles bed, watching him as he pulled out a clear, rolling, board. He had a red tape dispenser attatatched to the side of the board, ready for use.

I observed the pictures on the board. There were Sean's family, the Walcott's, the axe murderer, Demarco, and a few other unfamiliar faces.

"Okay," He pointed to the board, as if he was some professor teaching a class on a basic crime scene investigation. "So the Walcott's were the first." He pointed to a family portrait of a set of parents with two older boys. "At least the first that we know about. Sean, his brother, and their parents. They were killed by a professional assassin called the mute."

"The axe murderer?"

"Yes. The axe murderer." He nodded, placing his hands on his hips before peeling of a strip of red tape, connecting the two photos.

I had to admit, that dude was hella creepy.

He had no mouth. And by no mouth, I mean there was nothing there. No sign of lips, no contortion, just skin.

"His weapon of choice was a military tomahawk."

I shivered, adjusted my position on his bed.

"But the mute was killed by Peter Hale, after he tried to blow up Derek with a clamor mine." He connected the mute to a picture of Peter, and a picture of Derek. "Parrish defused the mine last night, you know, in time for school tomorrow and everything."

"Yeah," I nodded understandingly, "Most people don't want to attend school knowing there's a mine that could potentially blow up."

"Ha-ha. So funny." He tauntingly sneered with a tender smile.

I grinned.

"So, next, was Demarco." He taped up a bigger poster of Demarco's face. He already looked like a werewolf without the transformation. This man had so much hair on his face, wild, brown, and curly. "He delivered the keg to the party at Lydia's lake house and he got decapitated outside his car."

"By a thermal cut wire," I finished for him.

"Yes," He pointed towards me, and then turned back to the tape, ripping off another piece. "And last night, twenty-three year old Carrie Hudson." He taped Carrie to Demarco, writing the word "possible pack members" above it in a black erasable marker.

"Is that why your Dad got called last night?" I rested my chin on my hands, looking up at him. I had stayed at Stiles' last night, not being able to sleep once again. I think Melissa was starting to notice, so I had to be more cautious about what time I snuck out now. Around one in the morning both Stiles and I woke up to the sound of the garage opening, presumably his father leaving.

"Yes. Carrie was decapitated too, she was found on a school bus."

I trembled slightly.

"So did you show your dad the dead pool?"

He nodded, "Scott and I showed him this morning. My dad's trying to do some research, but I'm pretty sure the only one who can transcribe the rest of that list is Lydia, being a banshee and all."

"Has she called you yet? Any news on the other two cipher keys?"

He shook his head, sitting closely to me on the bed with the first third of the hit list in his hands. He started crossing off names of the deceased. "Kira and Malia have been with her all day but there's been no luck."

"Hmm." I replied, not knowing how else to respond.

"You see the numbers?" Stiles pointed at each number beside our names.

14 rang in my head.

I nodded, leaning my head against his shoulder.

His heartbeat stuttered slightly, which made me giddy inside. "It's all money for how much you guys are worth, right?"

"Right."

"Okay so, Scott and I came up with the theory that whoever stole the money from the Hale vault is financing it out to whoever murders all the supernatural creatures roaming in Beacon Hills."

"What the Hale were they thinking?" I chuckled, smiling at my own pun.

Stiles rolled his eyes and let out a small snort.

He stood back up and grabbed a white pen from the bottom of the board. He started writing something out, and I tried to peer around him to view what he was writing.

Eventually he moved out of the way.

Smack in the middle of the board was an anonymous outline of a head, with the word Benefactor written under it.

"Huh." I pursed my lips, "Okay, so let me get this straight: coded list goes out and somehow these professional assassins's, such as the mute and whoever else is behind the thermal cut wire murders, get that list."

"And a cipher key," He added, sitting back down.

"And then they go after the names on the list."

"Yes."

"One question though, how did the assassin know that Demarco was going to be at Lydia's lake house?" I eyed Demarco's portrait.

"Well everyone knows he delivers keg's to teenagers for earn extra cash—"

"I didn't know that," I interrupted, smiling at myself as I tried to purposely irritate him.

"Well you do now." He concluded,

"So who ever ordered that keg killed Demarco."

His head bobbed up and down like a bobble head. "Yeah, it was someone at the party."

"A student," I finished.

"Exactly."

I tapped my finger on my bottom lip. "There were at least a hundred kids there."

"Well it wasn't me or you or Scott or Lydia or Kira or Malia or Liam. So that leaves 95." He smiled.

I rolled my eyes.

He just chuckled, rubbing the cuffs of his hands as he sat beside me."Man, I'm gonna kill that little runt for what he did to you." Stiles pointed to my bandaged bicep, tapping it.

I shrugged my shoulders back, glancing onto the floor. "He didn't mean to do it."

"How come you're standing up for him?"

My lips pulled together into a tight line, pondering. "I don't know. I guess he reminds me of Scott, somewhat."

"Hmm."

"Yeah, and I feel like I understand what he is going through, to an extent, obviously. Scott and I can help him out the most. Scott, being his alpha, and me, going through a similar situation not too long ago. Scott got bit two years ago. He probably forgot half the crap he did on that first full moon, or how he felt, so at least I can be there for Liam. Well I'll be there for him, but from afar... so I don't die…"

He chuckled, "Yeah I see where you're coming from, I guess. I just want you to be careful."

"Why?" I arched a brow and gave him a signature Anna Miller smirk, "You worried about me?"

"Maybe," He laughed.

Smiled momentarily, but then it faded. "But yeah, all in all I just don't want Liam to feel like he's alone in this. Plus, have you seen that kid? He's like an adorable little puppy!"

"Yeah," He scoffed, "Until he rips your head off."

"Meh," I shrugged.

After a momentary silence, I cleared my throat. "C-Can I ask you something?" I stuttered.

He nodded, gazing down at me with those big brown eyes, "Shoot."

"You remember when we were at the busses and you said…er— something?"

"Something?" He arched a brow. I knew he knew ht I meant, he was just tormenting me.

I licked my lips and rolled over, not wanting to look him in the eye due to my nerves. I stared at the ceiling, gnawing on my bottom lip.

"You know, you called me your… you said that I was—" I sighed at myself, embarrassed that I was stumbling over my words. "What I'm trying to say is: well— are we like… togethe—"

The Sherriff barged into Stiles' room, and I sat up in response. "Hey!" he exclaimed, "You guys are home, good." I think he purposely checked in on us to make sure nothing as going on. I smiled to myself. "Good, I just brought home Chinese." He waved a hand down the hall, "Come on."

Stiles looked back at me, beaming, and deliberately ignored the question I know he heard.

He grabbed my fingers in his hand, and started tugging me out of the room.

We descended down the stairs and headed to the living room, three TV tables set up in front of the couch. It was obvious that Mr. Stilinski had overlooked my vampirism.

We sat down on the couch, the Sheriff in the middle. I folded my tray up, setting it aside the couch.

The Sheriff briefly flew into the kitchen and came out carrying a large bag. He placed some wonton soup, some rice, lemon and almond chicken and another plastic box on his table. He handed Stiles a plate, and went to give me one.

Awkward.

"Oh, no I'm okay thank you."

"Not hungry?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Not exactly" I responded, sinking into the couch in embarrassment. My cheeks would flush a bright crimson red if they could.

"Dad," Stiles spat through gritted teeth, "Are you serious?"

"What?" He whipped around to his son.

I don't know what Stiles mouthed to his father, probably something along the lines of 'vampire' or, 'she doesn't eat', but the Sherriff turned back to me with apologetic eyes. "Oh God! I'm sorry." He rubbed his forehead with his hand, shutting his eyes as he internally slapped himself. "Is there— is there anything else I can offer you?"

I almost choked.

"Dad!"

"I m-meant like a pillow. Or a blanket. Are you cold? Of course you're cold. You're dead."

"Dad!" Stiles through his hands in the air "Stop! Seriously, this is painful! I literally feel pain right now watching you." He gestured to his chest.

He just stuttered, looking back between me and Stiles.

I bestowed a small smile, and sat up on the couch. "Its fine, Mr. Stinlinski. I actually am cold. I wouldn't mind a blanket, if that's not too much trouble."

"Umm, yes. No. No it's no trouble at all." He moved his TV table out of the way and stood up, walking up the stairs to the linen closet that was still barely viewable from the living room. He dropped a grey, plaid patterned, blanket on my lap.

"Thanks," I smiled, wrapping the blanket around me.

He replied with a nod, sitting down with his food as he picked at a box of noodles with chopsticks.

Honestly, I wasn't even cold. I was just attempting to kill the awkward tension.

They ate their food in silence, despite the buzzing sound of the television in the background. There was a baseball game on. Stiles and his father had planned to watch it together since this morning.

When they were finished, I decided to help out and grab their leftovers while their eyes were intently watching the game. I packaged the leftovers, threw out the boxes, and placed their plates in the sink.

I came back just in time for them to jump up and down in coup as their team got another home run.

I sat back down, smiling and watching them.

The rest of the night was pretty chill and surprisingly normal for once, until an overwhelming feeling of hunger came upon me. Just like last night, and the night before, I breathed in and out, trying to flush it out.

I was struggling a lot lately, maybe it was because I was drinking Stiles' blood?

I don't know if I could stop though, as much as I hated to admit it.

I shook my pounding head. I had to shut thoughts like that out.

I shouldn't have been hungry. I fed yesterday. Something was wrong with me, I could feel it. These last few days were hard to cope with. I was, more often than not, okay.

But the wired pain in my stomach continued to ache, growling at me to satisfy it.

No matter how much I tried to push the smell away, their aromatic smells kept making their way back to me.

I felt jumpy, restless, and un easy, in this environment. My senses were heightened as my stress increased. The burning sensation continued, itching away at me.

The cravings almost overpowered me, it was like a little monster, cage up inside of me, continuously clawing at me to get out. It was painful to push back these cravings, but I couldn't chance them resurfacing and killing someone.

No one seemed to notice my struggle, eyes too focused on the television. Occasionally Stiles' eyes flickered to mine, but that was about it.

It almost hurt to sit in the same room so closely with them, ignoring my lust for blood.

Doing what was superlative for all of us; I stood up and announced my departure, running a shaky hand through my hair.

"What? Already?" Stiles glanced down at a watch on his wrist that I had only now just noticed, "It's only eight."

"Yeah," I blew out a raspberry, "Melissa is probably waiting for me at home. I wanted to chat with her before she left for her night shift about the adoption papers."

'Okay," He sat up in the couch, "I'll walk you out."

I cracked a small smile in response. "Thanks for having me, Mr. Stilinski!" I divulged quickly, wanting to depart as quickly as possible.

"Oh no problem, Anna. You're welcome any time." He grinned, his smile wrinkles defining, "Sorry about earlier, again."

"It's alright," I breathed a laugh, "Goodnight."

"See ya," He waved, picking up his can of bear in front of him.

Stiles led the way, walking out the front door and holding it open for me. After I slipped my shoes on, I walked out, Stile shutting the door behind me to give us a little privacy.

"Are you okay?" he exasperated, arching a brow.

"Yeah," I lied, with a phony close-lipped smile. "I'm good; I just want to talk to Melissa."

"Oh, okay." He bought it, "So are you going to come back tonight?" He placed a hand on his hip.

"Not tonight," I averted my eyes from him, but I could see his disappointment in my peripheral. "I think Melissa is starting to suspect something, maybe another night this week?"

"Okay," he replied, trying to hide the displeasure in his voice. "Yeah, sure" He breathed a smile and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me.

I tensed up in response, trying to hold every human portion of me together. I dawdling wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning my head on his shoulder. I closed my eyes, holding my breath, and clenched my fists, shaking slightly.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" He mumbled into my shoulder.

"Yeah..." replied out of breath, "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

"Okay," He squeezed me tighter before releasing me, a wide grin on his face. I loved that goofy smile.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing" He smirked, placing a hand on my cheekbone and pulling me forward. His soft lifts landed on mine, and I felt the smile forming underneath them.

I, myself, was smiling too, but I had to pull away, once again, because the cravings were too much.

He didn't seem offended,, he was happy, actually. He just scratched his head with one hand, waved with the other, and started back inside.

Without saying anything else, we both evaded. He smiled back at me one last time before closing the door, and I fired a small wave, shoving my keys into the ignition.

I reversed out of the driveway and headed home, eager to talk to Melissa now, even though I had used her as justification to leave.

I drove home in a matter of minutes, and entered my home, feeling the warmth of it hit my skin as soon as I opened the door.

"GAH!" I heard a scream from the kitchen and dropped my purse, averting my attention to it. I smelt no spilled blood, so it wasn't an aggrieved scream.

"It went through!" Melissa came running through the kitchen frame, papers flying everywhere. "He signed it!" She handed me a paper, pointing to a neatly cursive written name.

_Carter Miller_

My first emotion was ambivalence. It still hurt **so** damn much that my mom was gone. I thought about her every day, still grieved over her, and tried to compartmentalize every sad emotion that she caused me to experience.

No one could replace her, but if anyone could come close to it, it would be Melissa.

"Are you serious?" I grinned.

"I'm serious!" She cheered, dropping the paper on the floor.

I swung my arms around her and we span loosely in a circle.

"I'm officially your legal guardian." She clapped, her dark curls bouncing around her face.

I pressed my hands to my cheeks firmly, closing my eyes and smiling in response.

"You're the daughter I never had. The daughter I thought Scott was going to be! I mean, not that I was disappointed he turned out as a boy… but you know what I mean."

I nodded, grinning from cheek to cheek still. "Thank you, Melissa." My smile faded into a smaller one and the atmosphere in the room transitioned into one more serious. "Truly, thank you. I know me staying here for longer than expected is kind of a big burden to take on."

"No no no sweetie." She came in for another hug. "Don't think that. Where else would you have gone?"

"I don't know, my dad's?"

I felt her shake her head, brown curls falling into my field of view over her shoulder, "I would never let that happen. Anna, you know you're like a daughter to me. Now it's just written legally."

I smiled, exhaling through my nostrils.

She released me before I started to feel overwhelmed with her floral scent, providentially.

"Thank you," I smiled again.

She patted my shoulder, smiling back.

I started to pick up the papers on the floor, glancing u pat her as I did so. "You know you're basically running some supernatural hotel, right? Werewolves… vampires... nogitusnes.."

She snorted, picking up her keys from her usual spot in the little bowl beside the front door, "I guess I am."

I laughed, "Have a good shift."

"Thank you!" She chirped, soaring out the door.

After I had picked up all of the papers, I made the best of my agility and ran to Scott's room, bursting through the door.

He stirred, propping himself up on his bed. Previously, his head was on the pillow and he was asleep. I could tell because he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and a mystified look grew on his puppy-dog face.

"Guess who's no longer an only child?!" I took a running start and jumped onto his bed, landing with an 'oof' beside him.

"They went through?" His head jerked forward in anticipation for my answer.

"Yes!" I squealed.

The corner of his lips rose upwards, and he gave me a huge, open mouthed, content smile. It reminded me of when we were younger and I used to visit. I saw a glimpse of that young, goofy looking boy with bad teeth and a sweaty mop of hair.

He pumped a fist in the air, plopping his back on to his bead, staring at the ceiling.

I laid on my back too.

The only sound was that of our chests rising and falling, oxygen flowing through our veins, and of course Scott's frantic heartbeat.

"So Stiles just called me" He broke the silence.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, said you were acting weird. Told me to keep an eye on you."

"I don't need to be babysat," I emitted an audible breath. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" His shoulder bumped mine.

"Yes." I propped myself up on one shoulder, looking down at my cousin, "I'm fine, I swear."

He arched a brow.

"I'm fine." I lied with simplicity, whilst the beast inside of me that symbolized my lust scratched away in me, attempting to break through its confinement that was my humanity.

* * *

"I smell Derek." I flared my nostrils, as Stiles and I walked hand in hand down the hallway.

I was surprised when he reached for my hand, his bursts of confidence happening more frequently now.

"What?" He cocked his head, "Where?"

"Here. In the school. But it doesn't smell like normal Derek… it smell's… different."

"What do you mean, different?" My eyes flickered to his tiny lips, which parted slightly in response.

"I mean he doesn't smell, well for lack of better words, terrible."

Stiles made a face, squeezing my hand firmly. "Weird."

"Yeah. What the hell is he doing in the school anyways?"

"Probably scaring freshman's with those brooding eyes of his…" He shivered, "God, he creeps me out sometimes."

I let out a chuckle. "Think he's trying to talk Liam out of the game tonight?"

He shrugged, "Probably. He shouldn't play tonight."

I grimaced, "Yeah you're right. He is one angry kid, and playing a competitive sport won't really help his… condition." I muttered in a lower tone as we past a group of sophomore girls. We turned around a corner to walk up the stairs.

"Yup." Stiles said, popping the p.

"Speaking of Liam," I poked him in the chest, "I have to go find him. Scott put me on Liam-duty."

"Well have fun!" He attempted to untwine his hand from mine, and started down the hall.

I pulled him back, "If I'm on Liam duty, so are you."

"Nu-uh," He shook his head.

"Yes, because you love me and will do anything I say." I squeezed his hand and batted my eyelashes, leaning my head on his chest as he peered down at me.

His heartbeat stammered. "No way. Not going to work." He released my hand.

I gripped his arm tight and planted a kiss on his cheek, teasing him. "Pleeeeease,"

"Nice try" I was surprised to see that he didn't give in. Instead, he headed towards his Chemistry class.

"Come on, Stiles!" I hooted down the hallway.

"See you in Econ Anna!" He replied.

I groaned, descending back down the stairs in the opposite direction. "Hey, Lydia!" I wrapped my arm around her wrist as soon as I saw her walking down the hallway with Mala tracking behind her.

Instead of acknowledging me she just raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows. Normally people would be offended by her lack of politeness but I was used to it.

"Did you find the second cipher key?"

She shook her head, a few strands of hair falling from her messy bun.

"That's what we're about to work on right now." Malia interjected, moving beside Lydia to make a small circle. "So come on," Malia eagerly licked her lips, tugging at Lydia's green cardigan. "We need to know who else is on that list."

I crossed my arms, "You mean you need to know if you're on that list."

Her face contorted, and she did a small eye roll, "If someone's going to take my head off, yeah, I'd like to know."

"Fair enough"

"Now if you don't mind, Lydia and I are going to the art room." She linked her arm in Lydia's and Lydia didn't even react, just picked at her nails with her other hand.

I had an idea of what they were doing. Lydia was going to paint, get some banshee inspiration for another cipher key. She had had luck with doing art before.

"So are you coming?"

I pointed a thumb behind my back, "I have to go find Liam. Let me know how it goes though, okay?"

"Will do, now let's go," Malia started towing Lydia down the hall, who almost fell in her black heels due to the force of Malia's strength.

I searched most of the school, but by the time the late bell rang for class, I gave up. He was somewhere in the left wing of the school, on the second floor. I could smell him. I didn't want to be late for my Trig class, like I was countless other times.

After Trig, I headed to Econ, which I reaaaaaaally couldn't be late for because Coach was the teacher.

Stiles hadn't even noticed me when I plopped down in my seat right next to him. His eyes were too focused on a collection of photo's in front of him. He rubbed his thumb against his head in an overwhelmed gesture.

"Stiles," I whispered, as coach started his lesson.

He was too mesmerized by a particular crime scene photo, though. It was a girl, the one that died at the school the other day. She had two stabs near her left collarbone. They were thin slices. Presumably, she was a werewolf. It was eerie, really. We were unaware of how many other supernatural creatures roamed Beacon Hills.

I glanced to Scott beside me, who delivered a small smile to me as Coach started his spiel. It exists in all forms. "Economic disparity. We'll take sports, for example. Some teams have better training facilities, some have better equipment, unlike Beacon Hills, who can barely afford the duct tape to keep our equipment together…" Coach walked down the aisle between me and Stiles, gripping his lacrosse stick. When he saw Stiles wasn't paying attention he hit his desk with the posterior end of the stick. "Stilinski!"

Stiles jumped, making an "Aw," Sound as he relaxed, seeing Coach with the stick in his hand.

Coach looked at his desk, and Stiles tensed up, rubbing his fingers together in his left hand in a figity motion.

Coach saw the photo's and his fae contorted into one of disgust. He leaned close enough to whisper something that only Stiles could hear, but of course, Scott and I did too. "If I could grade you on how profoundly you disturb me, you'd be an A+ student."

"Um, thanks Coach." Stiles sighed.

He rose from Stiles' desk, tapping the stick repeatedly on it. "Put those pictures away,"

Stiles nodded, shuffling them all together.

Coach continued to tap, and Stiles' face lit up. He grabbed the lacrosse stick and took a little cover off the end of the stick. He looked from the stick to the picture on his desk, his eyes darting back and forth.

"Stilinski!" Coach attempted to pull the stick back.

Everyone watched in bewilderment, including me, but Stiles' didn't care.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

His eyes went from the stick, to Coach, to the stick, to the photo, to the stick.

"Stiles," I cautioned, trying to break him from this weird trance he was stuck in.

He finally let go, and Coach leaned back to Stiles, "Don't answer that, actually."

When Coach continued his spiel, both Scott and I leaned to Stiles, who sighed and just said, "It's a lacrosse player."

I glanced back down at the photo's on Stiles' desk and saw the odd pentagon park around the stab wounds.

It was clear, then. The pentagon was the shape of the stick, there must have been some retractable knife that shoots out of the end of the lacrosse stick.

"The killers on the team…" Scott clarified.

When lunch came around, Stiles, Kira, Scott and I headed to the locker room, searching every stick for a retractable knife, but there was nothing, we found nothing. I was 99.9% sure Stiles' hypothesis was correct though.

We sighed, string at the pile of lacrosse sticks in the middle of the room.

"This is pointless!" Scott gestured to the pile.

"Most of the team plays with their own gear anyways, don't they?" I added.

"Maybe instead of finding a lacrosse stick with a hidden dagger, we should try to get the game canceled." Kira advised, eyes on the alpha in the room.

"The game is the best way to catch him red handed," Scott shot down.

"But what if he's red handed because his hands are covered in the blood of the person he just stabbed to death!" Stiles exclaimed. "Which by the way could be either of you guys." he pointed to each of us.

"or Liam." Scott murmured, mostly to himself. "We don't have that whole lost, and he could be on it."

"We don't know anything about that list! How it's made, how it's updated… I mean who's been out taking supernatural senses, anyway?"

"How do they even know about me?" Kira questioned.

"Or me," I added.

"They know about everyone." Scott rested his hands on a table in front of him.

Stiles pointed to Kira, "I think Kira's right. I think we should stop the game."

"I'm not afraid." Scott said proudly.

"Neither am I." Kira said softly.

I blew out a raspberry, "Okay, well I'm scared to death."

"Same!" Stiles pointed to me, "I'm terrified, and I'm not even on the list. Guys, these are Professional. Killers. It's their profession. One of them had got a thermal cut wire that cuts heads off!" He emphasized each word, making wild hand gestures. "Who knows what else they have."

"I'd rather not find out." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"So what's the plan?" Kira asked.

"Well Liam refuses to forfeit the game, so it looks like we're all playing. We'll just have to play lacrosse, and keep an extra eye out for a lacrosse stick with a hidden dagger in it." Scott sighed.

"Malia and I will be watching," I stated, "We can keep an eye on people while you guys are playing too."

"Good," Scott nodded. "Just, everyone, please be careful." He stressed, "Please."

We all nodded in unison.

"Make sure you keep an eye on Liam," Scott glanced at me, "If he looks even slightly angry, you pull him off the field."

"Got it," I nodded, and then remembered, "Shit. Where is Liam right now?"

Scott's eyes widened, "You were supposed to keep an eye on him."

"Ha ha…" I let out an exasperated laugh, "Yeah, about that…" I headed out the door and merged into the busy traffic of the hallway, sniffing the air for Liam's unnatural scent.

I saw him before I smelt him, stalking out the building with Mason behind him repeating the words, "Liam! Stop." He picked up his pace, "Wait, no no no!"

"What's wrong?" I placed an arm on Mason's shoulder, who hardly hesitated. "I just informed him we're playing Devenford Prep tonight."

"Oh God…" I skipped over to Liam, who was still stalking towards the bus that had just arrived at the bus loop at the front of the school. "Liam, what are you doing." I placed the palms of my hands on the front of his chest, but he just pushed me out of the way.

"Liam, don't!' I cautioned, but it was too late.

"Brett," He called out.

When the yellow doors opened, and his previous teammates poured out, he glared at them, stopping in front of a tall boy, assumedly Brett. He was brawn, muscley, and his face was perfectly chiseled, brown hair falling over his eyes. He was wearing a nike shirt, a sports bag and lacrosse stick in hand. As much as I hated to admit it, he was ridiculously good looking.

"Oh, here we go," Mason sighed, watching along with a few other students that had encircled the fight that was brewing.

I crossed my fingers. "Please don't shift, please don't shift, please don't shift…"

I stayed close beside Liam, listening mostly to the sound of his heartbeat for any signs of shifting.

When Brett caught Liam's glare, he sent a cold glance back, moving toward him.

The tension between the two boys was more than palpable. "I just wanted to say…" Liam started, before breathing heavily and clearing his throat. "Have a good game."

I blinked in surprise, looking back at Mason. "Wow." Mason lifted a hand to his face, rubbing it with the shocked expression etched on him.

Liam held out a passive hand, waiting for Brett to shake it.

Brett, glancing back at his teammates, burst into a chortling laughter.

"That's cute Liam!" His husky voice said, "Is that what they told you to say in anger management?"

I could see the disappointment on Liam's face. His gaze fell to the floor, and he breathed through his nostrils heavily.

"Apologize, and everything's fine? You demolished coach's car."

"I paid for it." He huffed, his breathing almost sounding like a growl now.

"Yeah, you're going to pay for it. We're going to break you in half out there. And it's going to be all. Your. Fault."

That phrase affected Liam more deeply than I expected.

Blood. I smelt blood. I flared my nostrils, and peered down at Liam's clenched fists. Blood trickled down the side of it, falling to the floor. His claws were out, and he was piercing his own skin.

I pushed Liam back with an arm and stepped in front of Brett, who I had to crank my neck up to, because he was freakishly tall. "Hey, you don't have to be an asshole."

"Who's this?" He peered over me to Liam, whose eyes were like daggers on Brett. "Need a junior girl to stand up for you?"

I placed my hands and Brett's firm chest and pushed him back. He fell against a couple of his teammates, who hoisted him back up. "I prefer not to be conversed about in third person." Instead of retaliating, he just chuckled.

I was getting mad now. His stupid smug face, his perfectly chiseled jaw line, that haughty we he carries himself. What a dick.

"You mad Liam?" He asked.

I sure was.

Liam being mad was an understatement. He was fuming. I heard his heartbeat echo in my ears. I didn't know whether to calm him down or beat the crap out of this guy.

"Please educate me on what they teach you in anger management Liam. Spiel about what all those psychologists told you to do."

I watched as Liam peered up at the crowd, an eruption of whispers breaking out. He honestly looked like he was going to cry, whether that was in anger, or disappointment in himself, I didn't know.

"Hey, dick face," I extended my arm out, just far enough so it would reach Brett. I cranked my arm back, clenched my fist, and sent it flying towards Brett's face.

Someone tried to restrain my arm, and I soon learned it was Stiles, but I still managed to clip the corner of Brett's molded jaw line. A deafening smack echoed in the air.

He cursed at me in response, but I didn't care, I was ready to hit him again and again.

To my displeasure, Scott held me back. He gripped both of my forearms as he stood in front of Liam.

Stiles stood between Liam and Brett, placing a hand on both of their chests. "Woah, hey there." He dropped his hands. "Hey. What's going on, prep students?" He chimed, sending them an apologetic smile, "Welcome to our little public high school. How you doing? Stiles." He offered Brett his hand.

Brett ignored it, sending suggestive glances to Liam and I. I glared in response.

"That's a firm handshake you got there." Stiles nodded, eyes squinting in the bright sun that was aimed on his face.

Normally I would have giggled, but not now. I don't know what it was, but I had this anger built up inside of me, and it was itching to get out. My humanity was struggling to contain itself. To be honest, I wanted to rip this guy's throat out and if it weren't for the forming crowd, I might have.

"Uh, we're very excited for the scrimmage tonight. But, uh, let's keep it clean, alright? No rough stuff out there. Alright. See you on the field." He blew out a raspberry.

"It's a good thing you have junior friends to stand up for you, Liam, since you can't stand up for yourself."

I managed to momentarily slip out of Scott's grasp. I lunged forward to send another punch, but Brett stumbled back and Scott wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back.

My normally calm and pleasant demeanor was now the exact opposite. My face contorted and I flared my nostrils, trying to calm myself down. I don't know why I was so worked up, but I was. I had a short fuse, which I normally didn't.

When I re-opened my eyes start to flare red. I wasn't sure if Brett caught it, because he did shoot me a confused look, but I was absolutely sure Stiles caught it because he pointed back to the school and whispered, "Go, go." As he grabbed onto Liam, tugging him back in the school.

I could feel it consume me, my humanity starting to fade as I got hungrier and hungrier. My teeth extended and my breathing was heavy, as I tried to control myself.

Students gave us odd looks as they passed us, wondering why students were carrying other students like police officers ready to make an arrest.

"Keep your head down," Scott place his hand on my head, thrusting my face towards the floor. I could barely keep myself up; all I could focus on was my hunger. I was so hungry!

That aching pain…

I let out a barely audible moan, trying to look where we were going. Scott shoved my head down again and I hissed.

"Hey, McCall! I need to talk to you," That was Coach. "What the hell are you—" I only saw Coach's stained white nike shoes, but he was frozen in the middle of the hallway from what I could tell.

"Not now, Coach. I'll pop by your office before the game."

"I'm counting on that!" He yelled down the hall.

A door opened, and Scott pushed me inside of it, releasing his restraint.

Everything was a blur; I don't know what was happening. Maybe it was the lack of blood I had consumed as of lately, or maybe it was Stiles' scent. There was growling, threats, yelling, and hissing.

All I could think about was Stiles' beating heart, how much I wanted to sink my teeth into him. No one else bothered me, just Stiles.

I was in the locker room. I knew that now, because I had collapsed against one of the lockers.

I watched as Scott and Stiles pushed Liam against the tile wall in the shower section of the locker room. He growled and snapped at them, but they restrained him. The shower was on and Liam was underneath the medal hose, cooling himself down so his heart rate would lower and he could shift back. It appeared to be working.

Every so often, Stiles or Scott would glance back making sure I was okay. I literally left dents in the lockers from gripping them so tightly.

I watched as Liam nicked Stiles' hand slightly with one of his claws.

"Crap," Stiles winced.

I watched as the clear water mixed with the red blood from Stiles' hand

It was the worst scenario, really. I was hungry, and the burning sensation in my throat was not going to seize anytime soon.

Liam had calmed down, although his fangs were still out. All eyes were on me, as I stopped gripping the lockers and faced Stiles.

"Anna…" Stiles raised his hands in front of him to calm me down, but it did the exact opposite. When I saw the droplets fall to the ground, I couldn't help myself. I ran towards him, pushed him against the wet shower wall, and bit into his hand.

He let out a small gasp due to the pinching of my teeth piercing through his flesh, but overall remained mostly calm.

No one stopped me, which I had anticipated.

It was only when I tried to push the limits, and I lifted my head, opening my mouth to go for Stiles' neck.

Scott placed his hand on the side of my face, slamming it against the wet tiled wall. He pushed my head with such force that pieces of tile smashed, falling to the ground.

I hissed in response.

"Enough." He warned in his responsible alpha voice. "Calm down."

I could just see Liam from the corner of my eye, who watched with wide eyes, dazed at my true form.

When I had finally shifted back, Scott released me. I wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt.

"You guys calm now?" Stiles asked, pressing his thumb into the middle of his other hurt hand.

I grinded my teeth in response, still feeling a mix of emotions, something I had never felt before.

Something was seriously wrong with me.

"Anna, what the hell is wrong with you?" Scott asked, almost reading my mind.

"I don't know," I said, still grinding my teeth together as I looked to the floor, shivering. Suddenly, I felt like the smallest person in the room.

"Hey, Liam, that car you smashed. I thought you said it was your teachers." Scott changed the subject, sensing my awkwardness.

"He was also my coach. He benched me for the entire season."

"What did you do?" I asked, trying to shake off any feelings of hunger.

"Got a couple of red cards…" He murmured.

"Just a couple?" Stiles perked up.

"You have to be honest with us," Scott said, moving towards Liam. "What else happened?"

"Nothing!" He snapped. "I-I got kicked out of school... they sent me to a psychologist for an evaluation."

His eyes were anywhere but us. He averted our burning stares

"What do they call it?"

"Interment explosive disorder," He shrugged, sliding down to the floor against the wall.

"I.E.D? You're literally an I.E.D?" He pointed at Liam, shooting a discerning stare towards him, "That's great." He scratched his head and turned to Scott, winking at him and gave him a sarcastic thumbs up. "Great, you gave powers to a walking time bomb."

"Did they give you anything for it?" I asked Liam.

"Risperdal," He shrugged. "It's an anti-psychotic."

"Aw this just gets better," Stiles smiled.

"But I don't take it."

"Obviously" he clapped.

"I can't play lacrosse on it, it makes me too tired." He defended.

"Liam…" I started, kneeling down to him, "Maybe you shouldn't play lacrosse. Period. Not tonight, anyways."

"No!" He stood up, and I followed. "No. I can do this. Especially if you're there." He turned to Scott.

Stiles sighed, placing his face in his hands, but immediately retreating when he remembered the blood.

"Look, Liam, it's not just about the game. We think whoever killed Demarco might be on our team."

Liam shook his head, "Who's Demarco?"

"The one who brought the beer to the party, the guy who's beheaded, remember?" Stiles answered.

"We think the person who ordered the keg, killed Demarco."

Liam's gaze fell, and his eyes darted everywhere on the floor. He gulped.

"Do you know something, Liam?" I asked.

His blue eyes met my blue eyes. "I don't know who ordered the keg, but I know who paid for it."

"Who?" Scott asked immediately, "Liam, who?"

"Garrett."

I made a face, "That blonde douche on the lacrosse team?"

He nodded.

"Oh my…" Stiles sighed.

Scott sighed too, patting Liam on the back. "You should head home, Liam. I'll see you at the game."

He nodded, drips of water from his hair falling onto his face as he exited the locker room. The chatter of the hallway momentarily filled the room, but seized when he closed the door again.

Stiles pulled his keys from his pocket, twirling them around his index finger. It was a common ritual he did when he announced his departure. "I should get going too, take a shower and talk to my dad and stuff before the game"

Scott nodded.

Stiles opened the door, but paused to look at me. He smiled, just enough for his small dimples to show. "I'll see you later Anna,"

"See ya," I smiled.

He shut the door, and Scott started his bombarding of questions. "Okay, what's going on?"

"Why'd you wait for Stiles to leave?" I crossed my arms over my chest, "You're going to tell him later anyways."

He didn't say anything, just narrowed his eyes at me. We truly were acting like siblings now.

"You're acting like you were when you first got turned, Anna."

"I know," I sighed, "I don't know what to do."

"What's changed?"

"I-I'm just so hungry. All the time. And there's this wired pain in my chest. And I can just feel my humanity slipping away sometimes."

"I'm guessing that's not normal?"

I shook my head, "Not particularly, no."

"What about your anchor? Remember what Derek told you, emotionally tether yourself to it. Cling to it to keep the humanity in you."

"It's not working," I spat through my teeth. "All I can think about is blood, no matter what, even if I'm full."

"When's the last time you fed?"

I **glanced** down at my forearm, looking at an imaginary watch. "T-minus 3 minutes ago."

He rolled his eyes, "I mean when was the last time you fed on something other than Stiles?"

" 3weeks ago…" I revealed, my shameful face falling to the floor.

Scott's eyes widened. He pondered for a second, scratching the back of his head. "I think I know what's wrong."

"You do?"

He nodded, "I think you're addicted to Stiles' blood."

* * *

**A/N: DUN DUN DUUUUUUUH! Agh! Thanks for all the reviews! I love reading super long ones, hearing your thoughts is what I most look forward to every chapter! I've been writing a lot lately. I have the next chapter already ready I just need to edit! Seems like everyone is pretty fond of the Liam/Anna friendship so I've continued to progress that, especially on the next chapter!**

_**RHatch89: Glad you like their friendship!**_

_**Rain: Glad you enjoy it too :)**_

_**Readingbeyondyourvocacb: Thanks for your thoughts!**_

**Question: Do any of you watch the vampire diaries?**

**If so, I might follow similar scenarios Elena was placed in when she was turned. I also might add some of there abilities to Anna's vampirisim. Not many changes, though. Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing :)**

**R&R!**

**Thanks :)**


End file.
